101 Ficlets for Chell and Wheatley
by Kashimalin
Summary: My personal goal of writing 101 unique ficlets for a Portal Pairing: Chell & Wheatley! Inspiration comes from: multiple OTP prompt posts, AU inspiration, canon, and some original ideas. Updating Status: As frequently as my schedule allows.
1. Holding Hands

_A/N: Starry, I've missed a billion birthdays of yours, a bunch of Christmases, and it's time for a make-up of all that since I counted how much beautiful art you drew for me. Please enjoy all of these!_

* * *

 _Prompt: Holding Hands!_

Wheatley hadn't expected it when Chell did it for the first time.

They were just walking home! There was nothing special about the moment she took his hand, nothing that made it more intimate, more important than any other moment.

They were just strolling down the sidewalk, Chell keeping up a brisk pace that she always had. Wheatley easily kept with her, his legs reaching further than hers. Sometimes, when she would make a sudden turn, he would keep going and almost miss it, or when something caught her eye in a store window, he would look too.

That was how it almost always went. Once again, there was nothing special in the windows, no sudden turns where she needed to pull him down a street to get home and not get lost.

And Chell still took his hand in hers, locking fingers.

There was her hand, firmly around his own. His hands were warm, at a constant temperature due to every mechanism that was running in his body all at once. Chell's were cold, despite the fact she was wearing gloves on the brisk day. She showed no signs of fatigue or wear… yet she was still holding his hand.

"Sweetheart, are you okay? Do you need to stop? Is there something you need, because I'll carry you to a bench or find a water fountain, just don't go on me-"

She stopped him with a finger on his lips, which caused him to sputter in protest, before stopping completely and looking right into her beautiful eyes and to her small smile.

Then, she started walking again, grip on his hand tightening a little bit more. Instead of talking, he just returned the motion, feeling a bit better.

Still wasn't sure if she was okay, but he would ask when they got home.


	2. Cuddling

_Prompt: Cuddling Somewhere…_

Wheatley loved cuddling Chell. He hadn't been able to hold her down in the lab because she always slept next to him, never with him. But when he got to hold her in his arms, he cherished every single second of it.

Chell loved having him hold her because he was always so attentive. He would always wait the perfect amount of time before leaning his head on hers, before adjusting his grip, which was always more comfortable than the last adjustment.

It was also one of the few times where he was always doing his best to be quiet. These moments were _never_ to be interrupted by a long winded speech if his head slipped off of hers, or if he had to stretch an arm out, or when she got up to brush her teeth or something, because then he felt like he had failed his cuddling, but then he would remember that she hadn't moved any other time, and always had a reason for moving. And Chell would always come right back, unless she was going to bed, then she would always let him know.

But then there was the rare moment, most often when they were lying on the sofa, Chell on top of him, that she fell asleep.

One moment, he could feel her shifting to a more comfortable position, then the next, her breathing was in a pattern, in, and out, and her eyes were shut, fingers bent in a relaxed position.

She was always so peaceful. Or, almost always.

There were a couple times where she'd have a nightmare. He could see her face scrunch, feel her fingers curl, then she'd start making sounds. Distressed noises that were quiet as death, but if left to continue, became louder and would eventually reach screams. When the noises started, he would start humming, holding her completely in his arms. This relaxed her somehow, and hadn't failed yet. The day it failed was the day he feared for her safety.

"Goodness, luv," he started saying while he held her tightly one night, "you're so precious, so- so important to me. You always look so wonderful when you're asleep, and I guess that's because you're just perfect. Darling, don't get a nightmare, you don't deserve it, but if you do get one, especially one about _Her_ , I will hug you until you feel better. I believe in you and know that you'll get through it." With a "good night, luv", he kissed the top of her head in a long and somewhat flower-scented kiss.

"I love you."


	3. Breakfast

_Prompt: One Making Breakfast For the Other, And The Other Eating It Because They Appreciate It That Much._

Chell always made breakfast. Wheatley instead always moaned about her making "nourishment" instead of staying in bed, but never did a thing about it. Sometimes, he'd come in and watch her make breakfast. Just stare, and make very one-sided conversation.

"Nice job of flipping the pancake there, luv, truly an art form, really", or, "Should you really toss the knife in like that, the sink might be damaged from it, or if it bounces back out, it could hurt you".

So when she heard a yell, she was out of bed and running to the kitchen, looking in to see what was going on.

Wheatley was holding a spatula, and the smell of cooking batter fully hit her nose. There were _giant_ pancakes on the griddle, and one was half flipped, as if it was a taco instead of a pancake.

"Ah, sweetheart, I didn't think you'd be waking up this early on Christmas! I mean, I've been up an hour now, and I guess it _is_ the time you usually wake up, but I didn't think because it was Christmas, you'd wake up at your usual time. You're really- really organized like that, luv, doing the thing where you're always on your schedule and awake and- ack!"

The smell of a burning pancake caused him to hurriedly turn and try to flip them again, and while he did so, Chell started laughing and leaned against the doorframe to support herself.

"No, I can do this! I watched you do it fourteen times!" Eventually, he'd managed to flip all the pancakes over, and showed off the browned sides of pancakes he'd left cooking while talking to the love of his life.

Chell recovered from her laughter, and came over to give Wheatley a kiss on the cheek. He nearly fell over, but caught himself on the counter, grinning at Chell and stretching out to give her a kiss back.

She responded in kind, allowing him to peck her cheek. Then, he found himself staring at her for a while, until she looked pointedly to the pancakes. "Forgetting something?"

"Right, right, those cook even when you're not looking at them! Thanks for the reminder, luv, all right, four pancakes, coming up for my darling."

Chell smiled even wider as he watched his technique improve with each pancake flip, and when he got the last one on the plate without incident, she clapped, and he looked to her with surprise.

"Was it that good, luv?"

She nodded, and took the plate happily. Even if they were a little burned, he'd made them for her, so that made the pancakes even better.

"How do you say it? Merry Holidays? Or was it Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas? No, that's it, Merry Christmas, luv. Here's to a wonderful day together."


	4. Christmas Celebration

_Prompt: Christmas Celebration_

Wheatley had been doing his best to understand the lights. They were red and green, which was nice. Lit up the house real nice, they did.

Wheatley had been doing his best to understand the large pine tree. Chell and him had bought a ton of decorations and put a star on top. "Why is there star on top?" Chell looked to the tree, and shrugged her shoulders. "No idea."

Wheatley had been doing her best to understand why she didn't want him helping to fix her drawers, even if it seemed her drawers didn't shut anymore.

"Luv, you've just gotta look for more space-"

"No, Wheatley, don't open that one!" She ran to him and pushed the drawer shut again. It was heavy, but he could tell there weren't clothes inside.

"You're not allowed to look in this drawer, okay?"

He nodded. He didn't want to make her unhappy. So he didn't even look at it again. (Okay, he looked at it a few times. But he never opened it, no sir, not when Chell wanted him to not do the thing.)

Wheatley had been doing his best to understand the snow that fell from the sky. Frozen water? Unbelievable.

"Then why isn't snow coming out of the sink?"

"Wheatley, snow falls from the sky."

"Why?"

"Oh, my God, Wheatley."

But there was a line drawn when she put a wrapped box under the tree. Blue wrapping. He looked to it and read the label.

" _Wheatley._ " Suddenly, he felt his coolant flushing through his body, as if on cue. He sat there, staring at the tag with his name on it.

The dresser drawer shut loudly, as if Chell had given it one big push rather than gently sliding it back in. When she came out, her hands were filled with two more presents, also with his name on them.

"Why are you putting shiny boxes with my name on them under the tree?"

Chell looked at him, confused.

"Didn't I explain this one to you?"

"You mentioned gifts on Christmas, but I don't know what a gift is, luv, but if you did explain it, I'm really sorry I forgot, and that it's something I should remember since this holiday seems so important to you-"

Chell stared at him as he rambled on, dumbfounded for a few moments. Had she really not explained it? It was like talking to a five-year-old, when she explained things to her boyfriend.

"Okay," she interjected, causing him to go quiet and give her his full attention. "So, a gift is something you give somebody. They get to keep the gift, no matter what you gave them. You give it to them because you care about them."

"Do I have to pay you for these, because I'm still trying to figure out how you work out this cash thing-"

"No, Wheatley!" Chell recalled back to the time he almost walked out of the grocery store without paying for anything the first time. What a lesson he had learned that day. "It's a gift, meaning you don't have to pay for it, I paid for it, but I'm giving it to you."

Wheatley finally understood, and took up a box excitedly, then stopped.

"Darling, I didn't get you anything! Oh, gosh, no, I care about you so much and I didn't do anything in return! What are you going to think of me now? Do you still care about me, luv? You can take back all the gifts, I don't need them, I didn't do anything, if it means you'll still love me-"

Chell rolled her eyes and pushed the gift harder into him.

"Shut up and open it, Wheatley."

"If you say so, luv." He tore into the wrapping, eager to see what obviously wonderful gift she had gotten him, while Chell looked on with a soft smile, thinking to herself…

 _Gosh, he's so adorable._


	5. Kissing

_Prompt: Kissing_

It wasn't like Chell had been planning it over and over in her head again for basically the entire month of December. How he'd walk under the hanging greenery, or how she might pull him under it instead, just to share one last kiss on Christmas.

It also wasn't like she'd bought a rather pretty one just for the occasion. Wheatley knew about mistletoe since the time they accidentally walked into an aisle where it was hanging and saw a couple kissing. They brushed it off easily, the man saying it was no trouble, while the other was blushing a crimson red.

She was still surprised when Wheatley started to actively avoid the mistletoe. And by _accident,_ no less.

Something would always distract him from wandering under it. She'd cough behind him, he'd turn left right before to go to the kitchen and get water. Going to the sofa was redirected from a straight line to a curved as he grabbed a book off the table.

By the end of Christmas, Chell was determined to get him under it no matter what.

Standing up suddenly, she disrupted their usual pattern of cuddling in the evening, and caused Wheatley to start grabbing after her in an attempt to get her back.

"Luv, where are you going? Did I do something wrong? Am I too warm? I can- can run my coolant and do something, or open a window, or-"

"Stand up and get over here."

Wheatley now seemed a little scared, so when he stood before her, he _once again_ was not underneath, but a small distance away.

Enough to pull him under, she supposed.

"Wheatley, would you look up, for once?" As he did so, she slid his tie out from underneath his vest, pulling him suddenly underneath.

"Is that mistletoe? Goodness how long has that- ack!" He suddenly found it right above him, and looked down to see that Chell had a huge grin on her face and was pulling him by the tie.

 _Oh!_ He looked up once again to the mistletoe, coolant flushing his cheeks a light blue.

"It really is a pretty plant, isn't it? Is this one real or fake? I like the white berries on this one, luv, especially the red ribbon, too. Really adds to the color…"  
Chell had enough waiting by then, and tugged him further down to her height so she could kiss him on the lips underneath the mistletoe.

It took him a moment to process _exactly what was going on is she kissing me right now?!_ , yet when she let go of his tie, he straightened a bit, trying to not break the kiss. (Mildly unsuccessful, but it didn't break for long? Whew, pitfall avoided.)

When they separated, Chell looked up into his eyes, the grin still on her face.

"Merry Christmas, Wheatley, dear."

She'd never called him dear before. That was _adorable._

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he replied. "We're still under the mistletoe, so, does that mean I can give you another kiss? Is that all right? Fine by me, if you wanted to ask, by the way, but I thought to ask you first, even if you did pull me under it rather suddenly, and I'd rather not pull you under and repeat the whole thing again-"

"Of course."


	6. Dancing

_Prompt: Dancing_

"Wheatley, that was amazing."

Chell was watching Wheatley in the living room, after quietly walking out of the kitchen. He spun to her in surprise, wondering how long she had been watching him for.

"Amazing? How so?" He looked down at his body, which had nothing special on it. It was just his usual shirt (grey today, his blue shirts all had to be washed), and pants.

"The dancing thing you just did. The spin, the hand motions, the encouraging stance you had when leading."

"Isn't that how it's supposed to be?" Wheatley tilted his head to one side, a quizzical look on his face.

"Well, yes." Chell returned Wheatley's confused look with one of her own.

Wheatley assumed the starting stance again. _He's poised, almost… more confident._ Chell knew she was looking at her Wheatley, but it almost seemed like he grew another two inches when like this. And he certainly didn't need to grow any more, already a full head taller than her.

"Can you teach me how to dance? The only dancing I ever had was dancing around bullets and through portals."

"Of course, dear," Wheatley said, happily taking Chell into his stance. It was like she fit perfectly – clearly he'd been imagining her in his arms when he danced around.

But he was still frowning with confusion. "Why me? We could always sign up at that dance hall down the street - I mean, because, what do I know, they've done it for far longer than I ever have, probably masters of it and everything, and I'm just an android, who is just able to waltz and does it for fun-"

"Wheatley, you've made me watch enough dancing shows to know what a good form and good pose is!"

"Yes, I know that, luv, but am I really that good? I've never had a mite of formal training, especially from a teacher, and I've just let my body lead the way-"

"Wheatley, you're talented. Gifted. Shut up."

"...Really?"

"Really really."

"...Really really really?"

"Really really really really. I promise. Okay? If you'd like, after this dancing lesson, we can go down to the hall together and see."

"Okay. Now! Darling, you'll need to lift your arm a little bit, and oh, shoulders back! I want to see all of your pretty face, and then, it helps for just the look of the dance."

Chell did as asked, and throughout the whole time, Wheatley fixed little things, muttering "I just know it's like this" when doing so.

"All right, so, let me play back this video, and we'll step through a waltz together…"


	7. Special Surprise

_Prompt: Wheatley brings Chell a special surprise._

"Hello sweetheart!" Wheatley called through the apartment as he carried the bags of food inside. Two in one hand wasn't the way he normally carried them, but with what was in his other hand, he didn't want to risk dropping or ruining anything.

"Did you get the milk?" was all Chell called back. Wheatley had neglected to check the expiration date last time on the milk, and gotten one that went bad within the week (causing Chell to glare at him and teach him about the little black text on every food item), so he had to go out and get more. This "being human" thing was hard enough, especially when you were A, an android and B, didn't know this whole human thing as well as someone who _was_ , y'know, human.

"I sure did, luv, and the other things on the list. I found a few good coupons, too!" Placing the very special thing on the counter to put food items away, he didn't hear Chell's reply. She was probably working on the laptop. Doing something for the greater good in her work. He loved that she was always so methodical, and always doing her best. Gosh, he wanted to go in and hug her silly, but resisted the urge to do so and instead, put all the food away as swiftly as possible to make sure she wouldn't leave the couch and ruin the surprise. He recalled his mistletoe mistake and chuckled to himself as he shut the fridge and grabbed his special gift off the counter.

"My most lovely darling," he started with, coming up behind her, while she merely just sat at the couch, typing away, "Are you up for cuddling soon?"

"Soon, Wheatley, not right now. I need to finish this."

He pouted slightly. He'd hoped that maybe cuddling could come right after this, but these needed to get in water soon…

"Well, that's fine, but…" Resting his head on hers, he swung the bouquet in front of her, covering the computer screen. He felt her shoulders rise underneath his arms, and knew her eyes were probably widening in surprise.

"Hope you like them, dear," he said, kissing her head while she took the flowers in her hands, staring at them. He didn't know what flowers were in there, but he hoped that Chell thought they were pretty.

"Can you put these in water?" She didn't comment on them at all! Wheatley felt crestfallen, but took them from her anyway. "'Course, anything for you, Chell, I'll just go put them in a vase right quick. That pretty glass one's the only one we got, I'll stick them right in."

As he did so, he couldn't help but pout even more. Maybe Chell didn't like them? But that was impossible. Flowers always brightened a room. In fact, they brightened the kitchen counter considerably, just like Chell's smile.

As he mused on that perfect smile, he heard the laptop click shut, and he nearly tripped on the edge of the rug in the living room from the kitchen trying to get to her for the maximum amount of cuddling time possible.

Hugging her in an arm-wrapping embrace, Chell couldn't help but laugh softly. Gosh, he loved that laugh. He loved the smell of her. He loved holding her.

"I love the flowers, Wheatley," she mumbled into his shoulder as she hugged him back, and he couldn't help but lean against her head and hug her a little tighter.

"I'm glad, luv," he whispered back. "Got them special just for you, you know. Looked at everything they had before picking one out. Did the shopping real fast, too, so I could go and not take too long. Hoped you wouldn't worry about me if I took too long."

Chell shifted into a more comfortable position, but smiled at the thought of him staring at all the flowers, trying to pick the perfect one.

They settled into a gentle silence in each other's arms, and the smell of fresh-cut flowers drifted through the apartment as they lay there, enjoying each other's love and company as if there was nothing else to do in the world.

A perfect ending to the day.


	8. A Quiet Moment, Interrupted

_Prompt: Imagine your OTP gently touching foreheads… while they gaze lovingly at each other, holding each other's hands delicately. Now imagine one sneezing and smacking their heads together._

Chell liked the silence and quiet intimacy of this moment. They'd found themselves sitting on the bed before they fell asleep, and while Wheatley had originally been going in for just a kiss on the nose, they'd ended up resting their foreheads together. He looked to her with half-lidded eyes and a gentle smile, completely smitten with how she looked with her hair down before bed.

Wheatley felt completely at ease in this moment. It was almost like nothing could disturb them, that the world was completely quiet. He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, causing her to squeeze very slightly in return.

Kissing her nose again, he felt his coolant come on, and knew she'd probably heard it… but if she had, she didn't seem to notice. In fact, she herself was that same red color that all humans get when flustered or cold. Just a light brush of color, nothing like that time when they were shoveling outside and her face was almost the color of cherries.

Right when he thought it might be time to go in for a full kiss on the lips-

 _"Aaaaa-choo!"_

The sound instantly disturbed the quiet moment, but then, Wheatley felt Chell whack _very harshly_ into his forehead!

"Ouuuch!" Wheatley reeled back, the upper half of his body leaning off the bed. Chell merely gripped her forehead in pain while leaning forward; trying to make sure Wheatley was okay.

"Luv, are you all right? Goodness, that sneeze was certainly inconvenient, wasn't it? Can you really not control those urges?"

Chell glared at him in response as he heaved his body back into a sitting position on the bed.

"Of course, you can't, you've already explained it all to me. Here, do you need a band-aid, or something?" He gently pulled her hand away to look at it. It was certainly red, but nothing _too_ bad-looking.

Then he felt it. An overwhelming urge to kiss it. His face scrunched up at the very thought of the idea. How would that do any good?! If he applied too much pressure, it would start to hurt more, and nobody wanted that right now.

Thinking that maybe if he _didn't_ apply too much pressure, it would be okay, he went through with the urge to kiss her forehead.

Chell felt it, felt the delicacy of the kiss and the honest attempt to make her feel better, and started smiling instantly. The same soft smile she'd had a few moments before when they were just sharing a quiet moment before bed together.

"Thank you, dear," she whispered to him.

"Of course, luv," he whispered back, resuming the same position they'd been in before she sneezed. "Just don't sneeze again, please?"


	9. More Cuddling

_Prompt: Starry said – "Headcanon: …At one point the two of them discover totally by accident that Wheatley likes to have his hair stroked."_

Chell loved Wheatley's hair. The curls and color were something she found attractive on him. Honestly, whoever designed him certainly did their best to make him look… well, attractive. There really wasn't another word for it.

And she was getting a very nice view of him as she lay on top of him on the sofa. The TV was buzzing in the background about someone's form while dancing, and the chemistry between the two partners was clear. Wheatley was watching intently, but was still clearly focused on making Chell comfortable.

Chell, on the other hand, was still staring at Wheatley's hair. It always looked so smooth, and she felt mildly jealous at the fact he never needed to shower (or could shower, for that matter).

What did it feel like? Did it feel like real hair? It did when he leaned on her and it tickled her cheek, and reacted like real hair, because knots did form… So she wondered if it would feel just as nice when she stroked it.

Pulling a hand up to his hair, Chell ran her fingers through, and Wheatley's eyes were diverted from the television set to her. It felt as nice as it looked, honestly.

Then, a noise began to come from Wheatley, almost the same as a cat's purr.

The two stared at each other, and while Chell couldn't help but giggle, Wheatley seemed utterly confused.

"What's causing this?" he asked Chell, as if she would know the answer. She shrugged in response, having absolutely no idea what could create this sort of sound. "Are you doing it?"

"No, I have absolutely no idea!" Wheatley persisted as the sound continued. "This has never happened before, I don't know why or how it's happening, but _something_ is going on!"

Chell rolled her eyes and laid on his chest, trying to listen, while Wheatley wrung his hands and gave up trying to figure it out.

"It just sounds like it's coming from you," she began, but then the sound began to die. Something had stopped. Or quieted down.

"How'd you make it stop?" Wheatley propped himself up on his elbows to look at her, wondering if she'd done something to him. Chell was still just as confused as he was. "I've done nothing but-"

Then it clicked together. She looked back to Wheatley with a small smile, and ran her fingers through his hair again.

"Luv, what are you-" he began to protest, but as she stroked his hair, the sound came on again and Wheatley quieted down instantly. Wheatley sat there for a few moments, and then opened his mouth to protest he wasn't doing anything, before shutting it again as Chell started to stroke it rhythmically.

"…That feels nice, luv," he commented, laying back down and lacing his fingers together atop his chest.

"I couldn't tell," Chell said back, unable to hold back another laugh.

"Could you do this every once and a while, luv, y'know, this thing? It just feels nice. You don't have to do it every night we cuddle, 'course not, but just… sometimes? Please, sweetheart?" he added with a grin.

Chell smiled back and kissed his nose. "Of course, dear."


	10. Stargazing

_Prompt: Imagine your OTP is on a stargazing date. Person A and Person B… are lying on a grassy field and looking up at the sky. Person A… stares at the constellations and remarks, "Wow, I've never seen anything so beautiful in my whole life."_

Chell loved the sky. It was one of her favorite things about the surface. Aperture had recycled air, and the salt mines went down forever. Up here there was real air, an open sky…

Wheatley loved watching her when she was staring at the sky, when she was completely enraptured by it. He loved the way her mouth would open slightly, and her eyes would widen when she saw a new constellation. He never really followed any of that – didn't understand why humans had to see shapes and meaning in everything – but it made her happy.

They even had a special field they would drive out to on weekends just to see stars. Chell had even been debating purchasing a telescope to take out with her, so she could get a better look at them.

One mildly chilly night, they went out, crunching through snow to look up at the night sky. Chell was really excited to see the winter constellations.

"I think Canis Major is in full view tonight; you can even see the star off of Adhara."

"Mhmmm," was all Wheatley could respond with. He was looking at Chell more than the stars, to be perfectly honest, but he did enjoy looking at them, too. They _were_ really pretty, something he had never seen or known before. There wasn't anything like the sky in Aperture, where it changed colors when the sun rose and set, and when the night sky came out you could see the stars. Humans lived life by the sky, that you slept when it was dark outside and walked around when it was light outside.

Quietly, he slid an arm around Chell, trying to not disturb her.

He heard her sigh, and say with awe, "Wow… I've never seen anything more beautiful in my life."

Wheatley looked to her, and saw that same sense of wonder in her eyes, that same slightly open mouth, the face she got when she watched the stars and was completely taken by the way they looked, and the way they glowed. She was just as beautiful, he personally thought. Especially when she was like this.

"You're just as beautiful as the stars in the sky," he said, hugging her close while resting his head on hers to look up with her.

"…That was really cheesy, Wheatley."


	11. Professional Orchestra AU

_Prompt: Professional Orchestra AU! Chell and Wheatley are in the same symphony band together, with her on cello and him on harp. As the rehearsals and practices continue, the two get ever closer, and everybody at Johnson Hall can tell what's going on..._

Wheatley really hadn't _meant_ to trip over the massive instrument. At least it wasn't a double bass. But when the first cellist gripped him by his hair and spoke to him, it shocked everybody in the concert hall.

The cellist didn't speak very much to begin with. Wordlessly nodded when spoken to, showed the fingering, and didn't use words unless she really needed to.

So to hear her speak in such a frightening voice…

"I swear to God, if there is _anything_ wrong with my cello, I will _personally_ beat you to death with it."

Everyone in the immediate area backed up two paces, and Caroline, the conductor, came over right away, along with the principal french horn player, Rick. He shoved his instrument into a flutist's hands before running over to help his friend, lest he got his hair pulled out for bowstrings.

"Miss-" Caroline began, but Rick pulled Wheatley away, giving Chell a side glance as she went over her cello.

Caroline could merely sigh and direct her glare to Wheatley, who gulped. He was their only harp player who was available at the moment, they couldn't get rid of him! … Could they?

"Is there anything wrong with your instrument, Chell?" Caroline asked, looking back to her while Wheatley scurried away, just trying to get to the water cooler before the break was over.

Chell shook her head in response, having found nothing awful on her instrument; probably just needed to be tuned again…

"Good. We'll be resuming rehearsal in a few minutes, so I suggest you retune now." Caroline went back to the stand, arranging her scores in perfect order to be ready to resume rehearsal.

Chell gave Wheatley another glare as he walked back across the stage. Oh _no._ He had to sit exactly where he could be seen by her for the rest of rehearsal.

As he walked back to his harp, his three friends (or at least, closest acquaintances) were waiting by it, talking about him, as they so often did.

"Well, what have you three got to say about me this time?" he hissed, sitting on his chair to glare at them all. "Something about _what a wonderful impression you've just made on your crush, Wheatley? Try tripping and breaking something next time to make her hold you longer, Wheatley!"_

"For once, we weren't!" his friend Craig said, picking his flute up from his lap. "We were discussing if your hair was long enough for bowstrings. I said it was."

"It totally isn't," Rick countered, while their last friend, Kevin, merely said something about the music he was staring at.

"It is," Craig countered, but the argument settled as Caroline came back up the stage, with a tight-lipped look. Rehearsal was continuing for the last section of the day… and Wheatley tried to not glance at the first cellist, as he so often did. The couple times he looked, she wasn't staring, but he could sometimes feel her harsh eyes glaring at him whenever she had a rest. They began to be less frequent as the rehearsal went on, which made him feel a little better.

After rehearsal was over, Wheatley started looking for Chell. Eventually finding her by the water cooler with the oboe player, he waited patiently before coming up and apologizing about tripping over her instrument.

Chell shrugged. "No, I'll admit I overreacted. You just get so defensive of your instrument, you know? It's like an extension of you, because it means so much in terms of expression. I'm sure you would freak out if someone knocked over your harp."

Wheatley shuddered at the very thought of his instrument falling over dramatically, chipping parts of the structure and possibly throwing the entire instrument out of whack. With a laugh, he said, "I just get scared when someone touches my strings, let alone causes it to fall over!"

Chell laughed, a small, quiet chuckle, which caused Wheatley to grin. Look at that, he'd made her laugh! _Take that, guys!_

"Well, I'd better be going." Chell waved to Wheatley as she walked out. "See you next rehearsal."

"Same to you!"

* * *

The next rehearsal, Wheatley decided to get to the hall early. He really needed to nail his cues down, since Miss Caroline had come very close to throwing her stand at him last week.

Quoting the conductor, Wheatley muttered to himself, "You're a fantastic player… just that you never seem to focus on your cues!" He kicked the door shut behind him, and when it did, he heard another sound – a bow being violently pulled across strings.

Instantly going to the stage, he saw someone there, already looking back at him – the first cellist!

"Chell!" He came in slowly, instantly putting a smile despite his mild annoyance earlier.

She gave him a small wave before returning to the music; a cello soli in one of their pieces.

Wheatley stepped across the stage, to where the other door led to the harp storage area, and when he brought it out again, he tuned and warmed up, deciding to play something, because he _really_ didn't want to go right to the music and get worked up again about cues and notes.

Since he'd seen the new Star Wars movie recently, he picked the main theme to play. It sounded really nice, he thought, especially considering he had learned it for fun one day. When he silenced the strings, he noticed that Chell had been listening with a smile on her face.

"Did you like that?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

In response, she put her bow to her cello, and began to play the main theme. Wheatley let out a laugh, and she grinned back at him, giving a rather stirring performance.

"Do you think you know more than that? I bet you can't do this!" He raised his hands again and played an arrangement of the "Cantina Band" piece, one of his personal favorites to play. Wasn't as upbeat as he would have liked it, but it was still a rather decent arrangement.

Chell played it back to him, grinning the entire time.

Wheatley merely pouted, trying to think of another. An idea coming to him, he played the love theme from the prequels, and Chell found that it was one she couldn't replicate. Instead, she played the Imperial March, making a wonderful show of it.

Finally, the two broke into fits of laughter, and didn't even hear the door open.

"Well, that was some mighty fine music I heard just then, wouldn't you agree Caroline?"

Their laughter instantly ceased, and both looked to the doors of the hall, where Caroline and Mr. Johnson were both standing.

"It was well-played, but that doesn't mean they are the representation of the entire orchestra." Her monotone voice still echoed throughout the hall, causing Wheatley to cough out of embarrassment, and Chell to go back to practicing the orchestral pieces right away.

"Well, that's no trouble. I'll just ask them tonight myself! Pitch the idea, with the new movie coming out and all. Just let me know when rehearsal's over, Caroline." Mr. Johnson patted Caroline's shoulder and left, letting the doors swing shut behind him.

Instantly, Caroline turned on Wheatley.

"I hope you're ready to practice those cues!"

Wheatley gulped, while Chell held back an amused smile. It was going to be a _long_ rehearsal day…

* * *

"Can you play me some _Star Wars_?!"

Rumors had spread around the orchestra faster than a high school lunchroom after Mr. Johnson announced the _Star Wars_ idea, and about how he was inspired by the first cellist and harpist, who had been playing before rehearsal.

"I could, Kevin, but… Honestly, I'm tired. Miss Caroline worked me to the bone about my cues…"

"I could tell! They sounded far better, today." Craig came up and sat right next to Wheatley, plucking at a couple strings.

"Hey! Watch yourself," he said, nudging it slightly away from Craig's fingers.

"Star Wars?" Kevin looked at him with a hopeful look, and Wheatley found he couldn't turn his request down.

He began a passionate rendition of the main theme once again, completely throwing himself into the music. It was like he entered another world when he played without having to worry about listening for other cues and people. Craig always said he admired that about him, how when he "could be bothered to pay attention and play", he really did quite well. Rick just commented it meant that he didn't focus on anything else and wasn't all that special.

However, throwing himself into the music the way he did came with consequences.

"Ow!" He heard a yell, which completely threw him off his groove, since his elbow was stopped by someone's own arm.

"I'msosorryohmyogoodnessluvareyouokay?!" Wheatley instantly turned around to see whom he'd hurt, and, lo and behold, it was the lady to whom he had a very singular crush on. The first cellist, Chell.

"I'mreallysorryohmyGodcanyouforgiveme" came tumbling out just as fast as his previous sentence, and Chell merely looked to him while holding her arm.

"It doesn't hurt that bad," she said, shrugging. "You just surprised me. I never noticed how passionately you played."

With that, she kept walking, and when she was out of earshot, Craig let out a snicker.

"Sod off," Wheatley mumbled, "or I'll throw my harp on top of you."

"Can you finish the song, please?" Kevin asked politely, and Wheatley huffed, resuming the from the place where he had left off, trying to get all of his emotion back into the piece, but found he was more distracted by the fact that he'd accidentally made a fool of himself _again_ to the cellist.

Maybe it was just better if he got over his crush…

* * *

A few weeks later, Wheatley was very, _very_ stressed out. He couldn't find his music, no matter how often he kept looking around for it. And he wasn't about to go to the librarian again; he'd already lost his music once, and used his one ticket for lost music from the librarian. It wasn't like he _needed_ it and depended on it, but it was always good to have it in front of you, because, dammit, he needed to know how long some rests were and when to play.

As he kept wandering the rooms behind the concert hall, Wheatley checked everywhere, and asked Rick, Craig, and Kevin, but none of them had seen it.

When he came back to the stage, he saw Chell by his stand. Oh! He hadn't asked her! Especially since they'd begun to talk a lot more, (something which made him very happy) perhaps there was a chance she'd seen it somewhere.

Walking across the stage in a few swift steps, he opened his mouth to ask her, but was surprised to see, instead, his music on his stand.

"I found it for you," she said, giving a small smile.

Wheatley's stressed look became calmer, and he held her shoulders. She was calming, in a way. The way she'd said those words, and the way she smiled at him while saying them. She'd found his music!

The words came tumbling out before he could catch them on his tongue.

"I love you."

 _Take it back take it back tell her that's not-_!

"I love you too," came back as an almost instant reply. But then, they both backed away from each other like they'd received a shock, Chell covering her mouth and Wheatley's jaw dropping about two feet.

Rick snickered in the background, while Kevin tapped his fingers rapidly on a snare drum. All the rest of the performers merely looked to Rick, and then to the duo standing next to the harp, before going back to tuning and going over their pieces.

"If you two are done gawking at each other, we're going to rehearse soon," Caroline said, coming up to them. Neither of them had noticed they were staring at each other for so long.

As Chell went to her seat, she kept mentally facepalming to herself. That was so embarrassing! Why had it slipped out? She didn't _really_ like the harp player like that, did she? She found herself sweating at the thought of what to do about this screw-up that she couldn't recover from, and therefore, found it a little harder to play. But she didn't let it distract her as she forged ahead through the rehearsal.

Wheatley, on the other hand, was actually resting his head in mild frustration against his harp every time he got a rest. He could have moved _past_ it! But no, she had to go and say it back! Why had she said it back? It made it only more awkward!

He couldn't ever face her again. Not when Rick's laughter still echoed in his mind. He'd gone and actually screwed it up this time!

Making it through rehearsal was more difficult than he had accounted for. Even with the flowing Star Wars music, it was still hard for him to focus after that. Chell was also having the same issues.

With the mindset to bolt as soon as rehearsal ended, Wheatley heaved his harp up and carried it out of the hall. However, as he left the storage room, he was met by Chell, and despite her being a full head shorter than him, he could tell she wasn't going to let him past.

"I'm sorry I said it, Chell," Wheatley said, just simply getting it off his chest. "I do like you, but I had to go and ruin it like that, and I just… I am a good musician, but there's a lot else I clearly can't do well…"

Chell let out a slight laugh, and shook her head. "No, I wanted to ask if you had eaten before rehearsal. Because I was going to get dinner, and wanted to know if you wanted to join me."

Wheatley looked to her with surprise, and nodded excitedly, taking her by the elbow before she changed her mind.

"Of course! I'd love to, Chell!"

* * *

As they walked out, Rick couldn't help but sigh to himself as he watched them leave together.

"There's a very small chance it might work," Craig commented, while Kevin nodded, tapping out a beat on the table with his snare sticks.

"Perhaps," Rick said. Despite the fact he was still childish sometimes, Wheatley had matured since music school; they all had. And maybe she was the best fit for him.

Only time would tell.


	12. Eating Ice Cream

_Prompt: Eating Ice Cream_

Wheatley and Chell had decided to go out for lunch that weekend. It was something they didn't very often do, since Chell always seemed concerned about someone could possibly see Wheatley not ever taking a bite out of the food they were "sharing", but finally, when Wheatley convinced her there was nothing to worry about, she caved in.

"What's this you've gotten?" Wheatley pointed to the small bowl in front of her after the waitress walked away. It was brown, and beginning to melt at the bottom of the glass bowl already. Personally, it didn't look very appetizing.

Chell, however, seemed very pleased to be getting it. "It's ice cream. You've seen me eat this before!"

"Ice cream's white."

"Ice cream can be different flavors. Remember that one was called vanilla? This is chocolate."

"…Doesn't look as appetizing." Wheatley leaned back in the chair, looking out the window to watch people walk by.

Chell shrugged, deciding to just dig into her ice cream. Sometimes she wondered why the scientists had even bothered to give Wheatley taste, if eating would only destroy his inner systems. They hadn't really given him a digestive system or anything. The second he tasted something, he'd have to wipe it off his tongue, lest it get stuck in some extremely important thing at the back of his throat.

"Do you want to taste chocolate?"

Wheatley side-eyed the wavering spoon, giving it a proper consideration. Vanilla had been rather bland, he'd thought. Chocolate looked even less delicious. Even if this one was going to be fed to him by his girlfriend.

His girlfriend who was still holding and staring at him. His girlfriend who had "stubborn as all hell" written in her file, for Christ's sake.

"All right, luv, if you're not going to stop waving it around over there." Wheatley picked his napkin up, prepared to wipe his tongue the second something tasted awful, the "something" in this case being the already-melting brown substance before him.

Wheatley tasted it delicately, just so he wouldn't get a lot on the tongue, and allowed himself to try it before going with the urge to stuff the entire cloth into his mouth.

And, well. Chocolate was… _really good._ Something about it was better than vanilla. It wasn't as bland, for starters, and it was just… in a sense, better.

Remembering in time to wipe his tongue, he looked to Chell, trying to not smile at the taste. Wheatley put on his best frown, trying to look like he hadn't enjoyed the taste-

Too late. She'd already caught on, and her smile told him that much.

"I knew you'd like it."


	13. Rainy Day

_Prompt: Wheatley would shut down if he got wet. Or, he might. Nobody wants to take that chance. When it pours, Chell helps him bundle up._

Chell was very exhausted that night when she got home. And Wheatley could tell. She dropped the umbrella into the stand to dry, let her bag fall to the ground, and collapsed onto the sofa, huddling up against him.

"Hello, luv," he murmured, kissing her head while bookmarking his page. "Do you want a blanket?"

Chell didn't nod, but rather, shifted closer to him. Putting an arm around her, Wheatley leaned his head on top of hers, smiling into her hair.

This moment was peaceful, quiet, and intimate. Neither of them would have really _wanted_ to break it up for anything, except...

Wheatley noticed that Chell had been coming in like this all week. Tired, dropping onto the couch the second she came in the house, snuggling up with a blanket, and maybe taking a small nap before getting up to find food in the kitchen for dinner.

Tonight, though, there wasn't anything in the kitchen, and deep down, they both knew that. And with the pouring rain still fighting through the clouds, Wheatley was in the middle of a dilemma.

He didn't _like_ the rain. He didn't like going out in it, even with all of his gear on and umbrella up, and he didn't like getting wet a lot, because while he was certainly waterproof, that was only to an extent.

But he _also_ didn't like seeing Chell exhausted and hungry on Friday evening, knowing he hadn't done shopping that morning due to rain, and, I mean, _she_ did it all the time, with her coat and umbrella. Who's to say he couldn't do it, too?

"I need to do the shopping." Reaching to grab the blanket where it sat on the top of the sofa, Wheatley wrapped it around her, snuggling her closer as he did so.

She silently looked out the window, and back to him. _It's pouring outside._

Wheatley began drumming his fingers on Chell's shoulder and looking down intently at his book cover. Occasionally, they flicked back to Chell, and the look on his face was one she knew all too well.

He was conflicted. He wasn't sure what to do in this case, if he should do the shopping and brave the rain, or stay home and not have her eat. She might have been a little tired of sandwiches, but the rain was relentless and not giving in that night. Personally, she thought it was a better idea for Wheatley to not go.

Wheatley sighed, deeply, and the drumming of his fingers became a little more urgent.

"Do you _want_ to go?"

The question sounded tired. Her voice, a little hoarse. Maybe it was just that she was tired, so utterly drained of her batteries, but Wheatley made a choice when she asked.

"Yes, I'll go. But luv, you should help me get all my stuff on this time, because last time, I forgot my boots, and that _really_ put me in a spot. I'm glad we went back right away that day, even if it did make us miss that first train…"

Chell pulled the blanket around her body tighter, wearing it like a cloak as she helped button up Wheatley's trenchcoat, making sure it was tight against his body. Then, as he put boots on, she got out the gloves and scarf, typing it expertly around his neck so that no water could get inside. If anything made it past that massive umbrella he'd just picked up, he was safe as safe could be.

"Thanks, luv," he said, holding her face and giving her a quick kiss. "I'd better get going, be sure to lock the door behind me. That rain sounds like it really has it in for me out there, coming down like that and pounding on the window. Best to get moving, before it picks up at all." He opened the door and began to walk out, but Chell grabbed the back of his coat.

"What's wrong, dear? I'll be right back, don't go having second thoughts about it, I promise I'll come-"

In response to his ramblings, Chell shook her head and extended a folded piece of paper to him.

"The list! That's right, the darned thing, I was so caught up in trying to be safe going _out_ to the store, I forgot to grab it. You're the best, luv, always there to remind me of things like that. I'll be right back! Faster than any other time before!" Taking the list, he slipped it into his pocket, and flashed a big grin at her before running down the hallway. Chell couldn't help but smile at him, just hoping that he would make it back in one piece.


	14. Building a Snowman

_Prompt: It's the perfect kind of snow outside._

"It keeps falling apart." Wheatley was pouting and sitting next to a lump of snow, trying to not get upset at the fact Chell had a really nice, round ball sitting next to her.

Chell couldn't help but let out a laugh. "You're trying to roll it from the snow. You've got to build a snowball first." She knelt down and lifted the snow into Wheatley's hands, helping him roll it all into a ball.

"Okay, then, we'll put it on the ground, and we can start rolling it into a ball."

Wheatley enjoyed it when Chell was helping him. She was so patient and gentle with him, and never once called him a moron, or ignored him when he made a mistake, instead choosing to instruct him on the right thing. There were kids all around them building up smaller snowmen, with twigs stuck into their bodies to make limbs.

And yet she never compared them to his creations, always found something so nice to say about them that he could see in it when she said it.

By the time they were done with Wheatley's, it really looked like the start of a snowman. He'd even done the middle part himself! Chell was putting on the head, and Wheatley was going through the bag to get what she'd brought with her out.

When Chell turned around, she found him staring at the things with an eyebrow raised.

"It's a carrot," Wheatley observed.

Chell took the carrot from him and rested it on her nose, to show him what it was meant for.

"That's not your mouth? What are you doing with the carrot? Aren't you supposed to eat it?" Wheatley took it in hand and moved it away from her nose and gave it a once over, as if he was trying to figure out why she had put it to her nose.

Chell laughed, saying, "It's the snowman's nose. That's what you use. At least, that's what the pictures online said." With that, she shoved it right into the snowman's face, right in the center.

"I don't really get it, luv," Wheatley said. "But whatever it's supposed to be. There's also some black rocks in here."

"I'll do those, if you want to find us twigs." Chell looked into the bag and picked out the ones she wanted, while Wheatley examined other snowmen that kids were building all around them. These smaller humans seemed far too full of energy, while parents sat around and watched them. Did they have a battery that drained as they got taller? Maybe more energy was just spent.

As he watched the kids go around and find sticks, he got an idea of what Chell was looking for. Long ones that were also skinny. Not really anything _too_ big, or it broke the snowman like that one child over there.

When he came back with the two perfect ones he'd found (one, admittedly, had been taken off a tree), Chell was finished with the face. He wasn't sure how this was supposed to look like a face. It didn't have the eyes, teeth, and nose of a human. Honestly, it looked very strange. Why did people build it with black rocks and carrot noses, out of this white snow? Where had the idea even come from in the first place?

Things like that just made no sense, but Wheatley supposed it made sense when you didn't think too hard on it.

Sticking the arms in, both he and Chell stood back to admire their handiwork. Chell did think it had come out great. Wheatley gave her a big kiss on her head, proud that they had worked together and that it had come out looking great.

"Looks great, Wheatley. I like the bottom part, and the twigs best."

He beamed at the parts she'd mentioned, the ones that he had helped with or done by himself.

"The face looks great, luv. You really did a nice job with the smile there, practically can see that the snowman is happy as a clam, and that the carrot is really perfect. Frames his face real well."

Chell merely grinned, and leaned into him, appreciating the fact that he was really quite warm (and still dry) underneath all his layers.

"Getting tired?" Wheatley took her hand and looked to her, and saw that there was a small nod.

"Let's go home. We've built an amazing snowman, and everyone can come look at it while they walk though the park. And you can look at a warm blanket when we get back."


	15. Cooking Dinner

_Prompt: Cooking Dinner_

"Like this?"

Wheatley held out the potato to Chell, who gave it a once-over. The third potato was peeled perfectly. She had done the first to show him, and then he started the second, and this was the last one. There were no eyes left, no skin shreds left on the yellow.

"It's perfect," she said, now placing it on the cutting board. "This is now going to be like cutting carrots, except you've got a bigger object. Do you think you're going to cut straight down?"

Wheatley looked down at the potato. It was certainly yellow. And certainly fatter. Potatoes briefly reminded Wheatley of those weird projects he'd seen down in Aperture, on that day—

 _Not right now. Don't think about that right now._ Wheatley took his mind off The Place and focused on how to cut the potato.

"Well, luv, I'd say you'd cut it into pieces… but then they would be too big."

Chell nodded, looking at him intently as she patiently waited the next part of his answer.

"At least for stew, I mean. Humans really don't have very big mouths to eat things with, and I know that you can do that choking thing, that happens, and you drink all that water, and I get really scared for you there, luv-" Wheatley stopped when he noticed Chell giving him a look, and he remembered what he was supposed to answer. "Right, I would probably cut them in half, so they're smaller?"

"Chunks."

"Into chunks, right." Wheatley tested the word on his tongue. It wasn't perfect, but he'd work on it.

Chell smiled and rubbed his knuckle, before going off to make the other parts of the stew while he cut the potatoes into "chunks".

Chell had stopped by the supermarket on the way home that day after making a snowman in the park. "Something warm," was all she said, getting ingredients to make something delicious. When she stopped by the potatoes, Wheatley visibly saw her stop and go off into a distant place, something too long ago.

Wheatley had reached out and grabbed her hand, trying to pull her back to reality where they were at the present moment.

"Luv, here, you need these? Or do you want to keep walking?"

Chell kept standing still, but nodded at the potatoes. "Need three." Her mind was seeing the simple-shaped lumps in front of her, but her ears had blocked out the oldies music on the radio, instead she heard _the clatter of metal on metal, her body tensed up, and a wild swinging blue glow from her companions eyes, illuminating the room while muttering about never having to starve…_

Wheatley squeezed her hand tighter as he picked up the first three his hands touched and dropped them right into the basket.

"Keep moving, dear, let's go." He pulled her along, walking backwards and turning her head to make eye contact. "Right this way-"

The tumbling went faster than he could catch _any_ of the boxes. Who in their right mind would put that where people were walking? There wasn't supposed to _be_ anything in the aisles, they always pushed carts over or put baskets in front of them.

Chell's laughter, however, was worth the mild humiliation and reprimand from a nearby worker, Wheatley decided later.

On the way home, Wheatley finally bothered to ask what she was making, because nobody in their right mind would look at potatoes. He couldn't remember a time she'd ever bought any, in fact. She didn't like them very much. Maybe this was a step she had to make?

"Stew. It's a warm thing I'd like to eat for dinner after being outside in the cold today."

Wheatley smiled at the thought of how she looked when she said that, with a smile on her face at the thought of something warm, all bundled up, with a red nose and cheeks.

The thought distracted him to the point where he had put the knife down and lost himself in his mind.

"Wheatley?" Chell tapped his shoulder, scaring him out of his wits.

"Sorry, luv, yes, potato chunking! Chunks! Right away, I'll get on that, just watch me!"

* * *

It smelled delicious, and if it wasn't mostly liquid with different foods inside, Wheatley would not be against trying this new food she had made. But the smell would have to do.

Chell was eating it hungrily, like she hadn't had anything all day. It tasted extremely good. Getting past the potatoes was the hardest part. Ever since Aperture, things had affected her in ways she hadn't realized, like the potatoes. Yet here she was, out and sitting next to someone she cared deeply about, and as Wheatley's arm slid around her on the couch, she smiled a little and thought to herself:

 _Yes, this is where I want to be._


	16. Spooning

_Prompt: Spooning_

The couch hadn't been where Wheatley and Chell ended up that night. After dinner and a shower, she had gone to bed to finish her book, and Wheatley followed after her, hoping to still get cuddles in at some point that night.

He instead found himself watching her read, loving how her eyes moved across the page and the way he could tell she was almost done with a page by how she slid it down from the corner to get ready to flip forwards.

Chell knew that Wheatley was watching her, and tried to not focus on him, but rather, the book she was reading. But he sat there, and somehow, his very presence served to be a distraction. Especially since he was obviously being patient and waiting to spend time with her before bed.

Caving in about five minutes later, Chell closed her book, which caused Wheatley to almost reach out and hug her right away, but decided he could wait the couple seconds it took for her to turn out the light.

When the room went dark, he reached his arms out and hugged her around the waist, pulling her close to him and pressing his face into her hair, enjoying the texture and scent with a content sigh.

Chell always liked it when Wheatley held her like this. Something about the way he held her and the way they settled into each other. It also helped that she could just hear his machinery, all the sounds within him which kept him alive, almost like a white noise in the background.

Some nights, he would hum to her, and other times, would just whisper sweet nothings as her eyes closed, listening to his voice wash over her, pushing the silence away that prevented her from sleeping.

This night, it was a soft humming, gentle and peaceful, and before she could register it, Chell was asleep, breathing becoming a pattern and Wheatley could trail off, giving her one more kiss before entering his sleep mode.

 _"G'night, luv."_


	17. Mirror Tricks

_Prompt: Person A using reflective surfaces to watch Person B – a fairly [expressive] individual – when they're secretly watching them._

Chell stared in the mirror, completely focused on putting her hair into a bun that morning. She had intentionally woken up a little earlier that morning to make a bun.

However, someone kept distracting her as they watched her in the morning, propped up on their elbows, as she got ready for the day.

The look he was giving her, a mix of complete adoration and overwhelming love, had become a staple of her routine. If she couldn't see it in the mirror, she would adjust where she was standing so she could see the look he was giving her.

Chell smiled back while looking at him, and it nearly stunned him out of his watching.

"Wait, luv, you know when I'm doing that?"

Chell let a small laugh, causing pieces of hair to fall out of her hands. Moving to set them back and pull the elastic around her hair, she said, "Yes, I can see you in the mirror, Wheatley."

He became extremely flustered, and muttered something about how "he had absolutely no idea, the mirror must've ratted me out" while Chell stood back and admired the bun she had made. Touching it as if it would fall over, it seemed to be holding up pretty well this time.

"You've done your hair differently," Wheatley commented. "You usually just pull it back behind your head. Now it's all- all piled up in this weird ball thing."

Chell looked to him, and merely kissed him on his forehead before going out to get her bag and leave for work.

"…It looks really nice, dear!" Wheatley clamored out of bed, nearly getting caught in the sheets and taking them with him, to compliment his girlfriend. "Super job you did, getting it up on your head. I really do like it."

Chell cracked another smile, looking at him with a face not unlike the one Wheatley had been making a few minutes ago.

"Love you," he said, coming out and kissing her forehead. "Have a good day at work."

Chell nodded in response, and closed the apartment door behind her, leaving Wheatley to ponder on how nice she really _had_ looked, and wondered, if she was open to doing something else other than her usual style, then maybe…


	18. Tickling and Other Matters

_Prompt: Chell totally isn't ticklish._

Chell was just finishing up putting away the vacuum and arranging the last of their books on their shelves. Everything really did look nice and clean for the company they were going to have. Wheatley personally thought that cleaning up the closet in their bedroom wasn't necessary for it (but helped with that anyway) and that vacuuming under the couch was a hassle (every month, Chell said), but still admired how nice it looked.

Wheatley stepped over to Chell, looking at her as she gave a sigh, glancing around the apartment one more time, making sure everything was in perfect order. Abesentmindly, Wheatley reached around Chell and put a hand on her waist, with the intent to maybe pull her a little closer and rest his head on hers.

But when he did so, she convulsed and bit her lip, as if reacting to pain. Wheatley suddenly became a little scared. Why had she convulsed? Was there a pain in her side that he wasn't aware of? Or…

He went to touch her side again, and this time, her mouth opened. And she _laughed._

He knew this! This was being ticklish. Chell, the most determined, intelligent, and stubborn human – was ticklish! Even She couldn't have known that, no sir. Chell never let on about this.

"Are you ticklish?" He asked the obvious as he went in again, reaching for both her sides as she began cracking up, her laughter getting louder and smile bigger-

And then he found himself pushed away, hands off her sides and taking a step back, letting out a couple deep breaths as her laughter ceased. Wheatley went right back to being concerned. "What's wrong, luv, what did I do? Was it the tickling? You're not in pain are you? You know you can tell about those things—" He could hardly keep the whimper out of his voice while Chell gathered her thoughts, trying to wonder how to explain this one to him.

"But I was just thinking, because, Rick would pull this prank sometimes back at the facility where he'd come up and shock me with static, and yeah, it tickled, but—"

Chell listened as he went on, and when he paused, she said, "Some people don't enjoy tickling," which surprised Wheatley.

"But you laughed? You laughed with that big grin on your face and I could hear it getting louder…"

"It's more of an automatic panic response." Oops, wrong thing to say. Wheatley's face became visibly more distressed, and Chell looped back. "No, more like, some parts of the human body are more sensitive than others, so when they're touched a certain way, our bodies don't know how to react."

"…So you laugh?"

Chell shrugged. "I don't really get it either."

Wheatley nodded with understanding. "Okay, got it, no tickling in this household! Not if it makes you uncomfortable. …I can still hug you, though, right?"

Chell laughed, and extended her arms. "Yes, of course, Wheatley."

Wheatley pulled her over and embraced her, holding her closely and smoothing her hair down from where it had begun to stick up.

They stood there for a little while, enjoying each other's warmth and closeness, until a knock on the door rang out through the apartment.

"That's right! We're having company!"


	19. Snowed In

_Prompt: Their city has been snowed in and Chell doesn't have to go to work that day._

"All right, so, we're going to combine the cocoa, sugar, and salt into a small saucepan."

Chell read from the recipe while Wheatley tried to remember what each measuring spoon and cup meant when it came to how much you needed.

Outside, the snow was filling streets and sidewalks, showing no signs of letting up any time soon. The roads were closed, as were the trains. Chell woke up to a call from work that morning telling her she didn't need to come in; just "stay home and keep warm".

This pleased Wheatley, although he didn't outright say it. Instead, he watched as Chell smiled, falling right back into bed and dozing off, while Wheatley watched her, wondering what they might do together since her work was canceled. Stay indoors, obviously. Maybe they would watch those movies he had gotten out of the library. Or this time she would be able to play that one video game with him, since they promised to beat it together.

When she woke up, Chell had her own idea in mind. And that idea was making hot cocoa.

Wheatley lazily hung around in bed while she stood up, staying in her pajamas as she walked into the kitchen. She was only going to make it for herself, anyway.

"Are you coming to help?" her voice called, and suddenly, if she was asking for _his_ help-!

Wheatley was out of bed in an instant.

* * *

"Whisk it all together," Chell read off the instructions, before picking up two utensils from the counter. "Which one is the whisk?" Chell held up a flat, rectangular, rubbery kitchen tool, and then one that was a bunch of wires all bent around each other. He knew this one, pointing to the wiry utensil.

Chell demonstrated whisking first, then allowed him to continue while she poured out two tablespoons of milk with complete focus and precision. Now, Wheatley backed away, preferring to not use the stove when it was on, and instead watched Chell heat up the cocoa and stir the vanilla in. It smelled deliciously warm as it began to heat up, wafting around the apartment and making Chell smile blissfully.

While Chell poured the contents of the saucepan into a mug, joining Wheatley on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her and huddling under a corner of the blanket that he had put around his shoulders. He smiled and slid an arm around her, leaning against her as she sipped the cocoa, contemplating what they might do together that day, since she had the whole day off to spend with her boyfriend.

"We could watch a movie, or play a game, or read a book together, or watch TV, or watch the snowflakes fall, despite the fact I think that last one is pretty dull, it's your day off, luv."

Whatever she decided to do, he wasn't going to complain about it. No sir, not at all. Not if it made Chell happy.


	20. Scientist and Secretary AU

_Prompt: Human AU! Where Wheatley is a secretary and Rick, Craig, and Kevin are all scientists. A new lady has come into work that day and eats in their lunchroom. Wheatley finds her absolutely adorable. Commence teasing. (Part 1 of 2)_

You start to memorize the lunchroom when you sit in it long enough. You know that someone always gets at the table across from you. You know when your chair is _not_ the same one you sat in yesterday. You know when someone's out, or that Sadie only eats in there on Fridays because it's her one different lunch break.

You know when someone new enters the lunchroom.

Wheatley knew everyone in the building, which wasn't exactly everyone in the lunchroom. But he liked to think that he did.

All of his friends also noticed when someone new entered the lunchroom.

"Lookit her." His friend Rick nodded in the direction of the doorway, where someone had just walked in.

Wheatley turned, along with Craig and Kevin, who looked at the doorway as a lady walked in, with a straight-lipped look and bag slung over her shoulder. Her brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, simple, yet the way she walked gave it a refined and confident attitude.

Wheatley didn't know what falling in love instantly felt like. But he was certain that he was at least attracted to her the second he saw her beautiful eyes. …What color were they, anyway? Blue? Grey?

Kevin instantly looked away, finding nothing interesting. Craig had looked away the second he looked for himself, but Rick and Wheatley watched as she walked up to the counter like she had been working there forever.

Rick at this point stopped watching, but Wheatley kept his eyes on her as she picked the end of a long table, relatively empty save for a small group of geneticists that Craig was "happy to spend an hour away from".

Wheatley felt bad that she was sitting alone, but did nothing about it. Rick noticed, but made no comments about it as he finished off the last of a salad.

"Are you going to finish your salad, Wheatley?"

"Hands off!"

* * *

The next day happened relatively the same. Wheatley kept track of everyone who was coming in. He knew all their names. He would greet them with a smile, maybe a comment about their personal lives if they were the talking type (not all scientists were, he'd found out very quickly), and check them in. His co-worker answered the phone and scheduled things more often than him, but he fielded his own calls every once and a while.

However, as each rush of workers ended, he found himself insanely bored and watched the clock tick to 1 PM.

He hadn't seen the lady yet. Wheatley knew he didn't check her in yesterday, because he would have noticed her, what with her pretty face and hair.

But as he was lost in thought thinking about her, someone kicked under his chair. With a yelp, he glared at his co-worker, but she was already back in business mode on the phone. Oh, so there was-

 _Her._ Wheatley didn't even expect to see her, so he yelped for the second time in a span of five seconds.

"H-hello, nice to see you again, you checking in?"

The lady raised an eyebrow, and Wheatley realized; he hadn't seen her yesterday. He had only watched her across the lunchroom.

"I mean, see you, nice to. Name, name for the check in, just tell me and I'll get it down for you."

However, she didn't say anything, just wordlessly held out her work ID that she wore on her neck.

"Chell Amos. Alllll right, face committed to memory, name committed to memory. Have a good day!"

She breezed off without another word.

Not one of the talking types.

* * *

"Her name is Chell." Wheatley said as he dramatically placed his tray on the table and sat down.

"Good afternoon to you too," Craig muttered, opening up his lunch and taking his chopsticks out of their case.

"Did you talk to her?" Rick instantly ignored the article on another fossil discovery he was reading and looked to Wheatley.

"Well, it was a rather one-sided conversation, I'll give it that. Honestly. She didn't even _tell_ me her name, she held out that little employee card with her name on it…"

When he looked around the table, nobody was really listening, and Wheatley gave up, deciding to ask Kevin about what his morning was like. He happily went on about some new meteor sample they were finally allowed to analyze, and as he talked, Chell came into the lunchroom. She did the same thing as yesterday; Wheatley believed she had even stepped on the exact same tiles.

This time, however, she glanced in his direction as she went to her table. Wheatley wondered if she was looking at him, or instead at that empty chair that always was next to him. Nobody ever took it, nobody ever sat there.

This time, when she sat down alone at the end of the table, he almost stood up to go ask if she wanted to sit with them.

But then when Kevin asked if he was bored, Wheatley instantly went back to listening, but not without looking up at Chell every once and a while.

* * *

A week passed, with the same results each time. Wheatley would watch her walk in, get her food, and sit down alone. Once, he'd caught her looking at him, but that was probably because she somehow knew, a couple seconds later, he would accidentally drop a piece of meat off his fork and onto his lap, missing his mouth completely.

Rick had snorted and Craig, smiled. Embarrassed, he swiftly cleaned it up, but not before it left a stain on his pants.

Wheatley hadn't caught her looking since, but that day, he ended up leaving at the same time she did. They got in the elevator together, going down three floors.

Wheatley happily pushed the button for her, and stood there in awkward silence. He wondered if he should talk, or simply just stay quiet.

Before he had made up his mind, the elevator had pinged and she was moving to walk out.

"Have a good rest of your day-!" came out before he could stop it. Chell turned back to him, watching as he caught up behind her.

"You too." And she was off.

Oh no. Her voice was pretty... And she _was_ one for conversation.

* * *

After that, Wheatley was absolutely smitten. And all of his friends noticed. It was just that obvious.

Finally, Rick slammed his cutlery down, causing everyone at the table to jump in surprise. Especially Wheatley, who had been completely distracted staring at Chell.  
"For the love of _God._ " Rick gave Wheatley a glare as he spoke. "You have been glancing over at her every five seconds, just go _talk_ to her already!"

Wheatley gave a small " _meep"_ as Rick eyed him, while Kevin and Craig watched, completely enraptured by the conversation.

"Well- well see here, I just feel bad, she's got nobody over there, not even _sitting_ with those DNA scientists-"

"Geneticists who refuse to listen," Craig muttered, butting into the conversation.

"-and just being alone to merely eat her lunch and get on with her day, and maybe she does want to _talk_ more, because we know she talks, Chell I mean, but I just feel bad and really do think that I should go over there, but what if she _doesn't_ want to talk and-"

Rick massaged his temples. "Then, just, ask her to come over here, then."

"Are you _mad_?!" Wheatley tipped back in his chair at the pure horror of such a suggestion. "That makes it too obvious!"  
"Makes what too obvious?" Kevin piped up. Craig snickered, trying to make sure rice didn't spill out of his mouth.

"Shu- Be quiet, Kevin! It's not like that!"

"Oh, it's totally like that," Rick said with a grin. "Look, we'll invite her over, if you want."

"No no no, you can't do _that._ I've got to do my best and just go over and tell her myself and-"

"Then do it?!"

Wheatley slapped his hands to his face and pulled them down, stretching his skin as he went along.

"How about we just all go over together?" Wheatley grinned, wondering if they would agree with him.

"We'll give it until the end of the week," Craig said, "in case she comes over here."

Everyone agreed. Wheatley had been hoping it might be earlier, but since they had agreed to come with him, he wasn't about to push it.

* * *

The rest of that week came and went. Wheatley felt like Chell had been coming into that lunchroom since they had all started working there. He had also gotten a few more words out of her at the desk, and even left with her a couple times again, her catching up to walk with him for those few short and wonderful moments each day.

But today, he had a plan. Rick, Craig, and Kevin had all begrudgingly agreed, but were all secretly happy that he was finally doing this, rather than muttering to them about how beautiful she looked and how he wished he could just go over and sit with her.

Today, when she sat down, they all stood up, and moved over to where she was sitting. As they all began clamoring around her, she looked extremely alarmed, unable to object or even process the situation by the time they had all sat down at her table.

"Hello, Chell!" Wheatley gave a huge grin. "Me and my friends-" glancing at each of them in turn, "-wanted to sit with you. You've been alone for a couple weeks, and we just thought you might like some company. You know, because you look over at us a lot, and we thought that instead of you having to ask about coming to sit, we would come to you!"

"Actually, it was all this silly goose's idea," Rick whispered, leaning towards Chell and pointing a fork at Wheatley. "Don't lump us with him."

"We merely support all his endeavors, however absolutely absurd they may be."

"Do you like space?"

Chell couldn't help but crack a small smile, and Wheatley felt like he had just watched a flower bloom. She did it sometimes when she said "have a good day", but this was different. The way it happened, because of them…

The rest of the lunch was mostly them all rambling about their different jobs, and Chell listening with rapt attention.

As the lunch ended, Wheatley and Chell stood up together, walking out as Rick, Craig, and Kevin took their extra time away from work. Wheatley needed to get back to the desk so his co-worker could go eat, and Chell had to get back to her job.

"Can we do that again Monday?" Wheatley asked as they stepped into the elevator, pushing their floor and letting the doors close.

Chell nodded, looking up to him with a smile. "Why not? Have a nice day."

That smile _was_ different. It was brighter, and it was bigger. Wheatley watched her go, and gave a dreamy sigh as his co-worker rounded the corner to the elevator to go get her own lunch.

"Hey there, space cadet, get back to the desk."

"Yes! Desk work, I've got a job to do, people to check in! Right on it!"


	21. Scientist and Secretary AU, Part 2

_Prompt: Human AU! Where Wheatley is a secretary and Rick, Craig, and Kevin are all scientists. The four successfully had a conversation with Chell, and Wheatley's relationship with her seems to be in the positive for the next couple of weeks. However, something is amiss…_

Monday came quietly. They were all waiting for Chell to walk into the lunchroom, per usual. Wheatley had even gone as far as to not start eating until she came in, because he wanted to have them leave together.

Over the past few weeks, Chell had taken to sitting at their table, and it had made Wheatley as happy as a lark. It showed - his face seemed to brighten. His smile grew with every passing day, and it was obvious to everyone else that the more he spoke to Chell, the more he was rapidly falling in love with her.

It wasn't that hard to tell, and even Wheatley seemed to know that he was falling head over heels for the lady.

Thirty minutes ticked by, and Chell hadn't come in yet. Wheatley had not seen her come in that morning, either, but that might have been that she took the back entrance. It all depended on where she parked, he had found out in all his conversations with her.

Ten minutes until his break was over, Rick leaned over, aiming to take Wheatley's cookie, but then saw he wasn't even watching at that moment. His eyes were, at this point, completely focused on the door.

"Maybe she's busy with work. She might not have gotten time," Craig pointed out, and Kevin nodded in agreement.

Wheatley, however, refused to accept that. His paranoia set in.

"What if she's gone and sat in a different lunchroom? Maybe she was intentionally avoiding me this morning, just so she wouldn't have to face me. She could've been embarrassed when we crashed her table and has been nice this whole time and has decided to finally do something about it! Oh no, what if _I_ embarrassed her?"

Rick sighed, and shoved the cookie he'd taken into Wheatley's mouth. "You've got ten minutes. _Eat."_

Despite his distress, Wheatley chewed on the cookie, trying to ignore how bland everything suddenly seemed to taste.

* * *

"… and I'm just afraid she's ignoring me! I feel like she's going to _keep_ avoiding me to the point where I'll just collapse into a puddle on the floor and you'll have to scrape up the remains and find a new worker for the front desk."

Kevin, who had been half-listening as he examined a meteor sample, finally pushed back and looked to Wheatley, whose head was in his hands as he complained about Chell.

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Kevin finally scooted across the floor on his chair, coming to pat Wheatley's back while he lamented about how she must not care about him, and _God_ , what if he embarrassed her to the point of resigning?! She might have a dog, you don't know, what if she or the puppy can't _eat_ because she doesn't have an income!

Kevin didn't have much else to say, but wondered if he simply had anything to take Wheatley's mind off of Chell and get it back on track, as he still had about an hour left and Wheatley's shift was over.

"Wheats," he finally said in a quiet tone, getting his attention instantly. "Just go home and sleep on it, okay? We'll see if she's in tomorrow. Maybe she was just too busy."

Wheatley sniffled, wiping his nose with a sleeve, but nodded with agreement as Kevin helped him collect the stuff he had dramatically dropped by the door, and was prepared to send him off when Wheatley finally decided to tell Kevin his plans.

"I wanted to ask her out, Kev."

Kevin stared at him, and merely cracked a huge grin. "It was so obvious, of course you were. Don't worry. We'll make sure that we find out where Chell is… She'll be in tomorrow."

With that confidence in Wheatley, he walked away, waking to Kevin as he rounded the corner. Kevin turned back into his office and resumed taking notes, promising he would try to talk to Rick and Craig before lunch the next day.

* * *

"She wasn't in this morning."

Wheatley had finally bothered to check with the back desk before he walked into the lunchroom. Rick, Craig, and Kevin merely watched as he sat down… or more collapsed into his chair, hunched over like he'd just heard the worst news of his life.

Perhaps, in his own way, it was.

Rick was the only one who managed to get Wheatley to eat anything, while Craig merely resigned himself to believing that he was the one to get a rant later that day. Unless Rick did. Wheatley had already gone to Kevin after hours, there was no reason why he wouldn't target him next.

And he was correct.

After hours, Craig heard the door open, and as someone collapsed into a nearby chair, he almost snapped, but held his tongue for the sake of his friend.

"If you're going to mope, can you absolutely not do it here?"

"I'm just-"

"Wheatley. She's fine. I'm sure everything is all right. Maybe she's on a trip."

"We would have heard about a trip."

"No, _we_ would not have." Craig pushed away from his papers and turned to Wheatley, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "You watched her for a couple weeks, and you ate with her on Friday. Now we've sat with her for a few weeks. It's just another Tuesday, she's not in, maybe something's happened. Something she didn't feel the need to tell us. She's not much of a talker in the first place, anyway."

"Then she might be in trouble! Or it might be a trying time in her life, and you saw how nobody _ever_ came and sat with her! She's alone and there's probably no one to help or console her!"

Craig groaned, but breathed slowly out through his nose in an attempt to reach a state of calm and lack of stress to help his friend.

"Look. Forget what I said. Everything's fine. If you want, you can talk to Rick tomorrow, and I'm sure the two of you can come up with a solution. If she's not back by Friday, I'll see if we can find out anything. There must be people in her department who know about her."

Wheatley nodded. "Thank you, Craig!" With a brief hug (and sigh from Craig as he reluctantly patted back), Wheatley was out, leaving Craig only a little annoyed, but also relived that his friend seemed to be doing a little better.

* * *

Rick's turn was next, and with the atmosphere of the lunch table, he could tell. Wheatley seemed to be doing better on the outside, but Rick could tell in the subtle of Wheatley's body language that he wasn't doing better. Chell being gone was taking a toll on him.

And later, he didn't need subtle changes to tell him that. Wheatley was sitting in his office, going on about the same things he'd heard from Kevin and Craig.  
"I'm just so worried, you know?" Wheatley wrung his hands. "Is there anything you think I should do?"

Rick sighed, tossing a pencil he was using to make marks on a photo aside. "There's nothing to it. But I can make a suggestion, how about tomorrow, we can go around and make a day of asking if anybody's seen her. Does that sound like a plan?"

Wheatley nodded, looking the happiest he had ever been. "That sounds like a great- OUCH!" He buckled over in his chair, and Rick instantly stood. "What's the matter, Wheatley?!"

He groaned, then went silent as he stared at what caused his pain.  
"Rick, you've got a cat in your office."

Rick's eyes widened, and he looked to the corner of his office where a small crate sat. The door was swinging back and forth slightly, as if mocking him.

"It's just a cat." Rick came over and gently removed the small black-striped cat from Wheatley's leg. "They just wandered in."

Wheatley watched as Rick handled the cat, seeming to know how to handle a small creature.

"Are they yours?"

"Didn't I just say it wandered in?!" Rick turned on Wheatley. "The cat's just here! It's a stray, not mine! What do you expect me to do when a cat just wanders into my office!"

While he spoke, he was subconsciously massaging the small cat behind it's dark ears, and it started purring and looking perfectly content.

"You look like you love them."

"It's a small adorable animal- Wait no! What- Shut up, Wheatley!" He went back around the desk and gently nudged the small cat back into the crate. "I can't leave Wilbur at home, all right?!" His tone turned sharp as Wheatley couldn't contain a snort, obviously aimed at him and his affectionate nature towards the small creature.

Wheatley let his laughter out, and suddenly felt a bit more hopeful. They would find Chell. He just wanted to make sure she was all right… and say he was sorry if he had offended her or made her extremely uncomfortable on Friday by crashing her table. He hadn't _meant_ it. He just wanted her to know that.

And maybe he wanted to still ask her out, too. But that could wait.

* * *

Craig and Kevin both stared, stunned at Wheatley as he ate his lunch at breakneck pace.

Rick had explained that they were taking the lunch break to ask around about Chell, and as he did so, Wheatley took a glance at the door-

And nearly stared choking on his food, having a coughing fit that got all of their attention before it was taken by the lady walking through the doorway, same path and pattern, as if she hadn't been gone for almost an entire week.

After getting her food, she walked up to Wheatley, and pointed to the seat next to him.

"Is this seat taken?"

With a shake of his head, Wheatley was pulling the chair out, checking her for any strange marks or signs of stress, but she seemed perfectly normal, and explained herself when she sat down at the table.

"I had a cold this entire time, and…" as she spoke, her eyes found their way over to Wheatley…

"I didn't want to pass it on to any of you. You've all been so nice these past few weeks, and I didn't want to pay you back with an awful fever."

A small silence passed over the table, and the three erupted into laughter, while Wheatley merely cracked a bittersweet smile, feeling the urge to tear up.

He was so happy to see her again.

And judging by the way she looked at him, she was happy to see him, too.


	22. Ice Skating

_Prompt: Wheatley plus ice skates equals disaster zone._

" _No."_

Wheatley wasted no words describing his absolute urge to _not_ go on that surface. There were a couple children, parents watching them excited with cameras, and yelling when they fell over. There were couples, holding arms and moving around in one big circle.

There was even one person in the middle doing jumps and these crazy spins.

Chell merely took his hand in an iron grip and pulled him along, renting the shoes with _blades_ on the bottom.

And she was trusting him with these?!

Nervously taking off his sneakers, Chell took them and stored them in a locker as she easily got the strange shoes on her feet, and stood. She wobbled a bit, much to Wheatley's concern as he prepared to grab her in case she fell, but she instantly regained her balance and stood completely upright. It wasn't like she was wearing these shoes with blades at all.

How was she balancing on them?!

As Wheatley expertly tied his laces (much to Chell's approval), the next challenge was standing up from the bench.

Taking Chell's outstretched hands, he gingerly stood up, nearly feeling his feet bend inwards as his balance left him completely.

"It will be easier once we get on the ice."

As she said that, one kid fell dramatically, sliding across and nearly hitting a wall. A parent skidded to a halt behind the child, who was crying loud enough to reach Wheatley and Chell's ears.

Suddenly, he was overcome with the sudden urge to _most certainly not do this._

But someone was opening the wall, and Chell lead him onto the ice. Leaving Wheatley to grip the wall, she skid around, getting used to the ice and nearly fell only once. It never happened again the entire time she was skating.

When she was adjusted, she came back and held out her hands for Wheatley to hold. He felt the urge to make a swallowing motion, and looked out onto the ice, where the lady in the center executed another jumping motion – on the same surface a small child had fallen over on.

This couldn't be _too_ hard, right?

He finally registered that this surface was very, very, _very_ slick. It wasn't easy to move on it. Wheatley learned slowly that you almost had to push against the ice to get anywhere, and that the way you turned was difficult as you almost had to bend your feet and shift your weight.

But Chell held his hands. She kept holding on as she did her best to grip him as he almost lost his balance multiple times. Chell would encourage him as he kept on going, and when he faltered at watching smaller kids skate better than he could, when he couldn't even let go of her hands.

Suddenly, the grip wasn't there anymore. Chell had pulled her hands away, and Wheatley nearly fell over, but regained his balance and skated along, finding his way to the wall.

"Oh my _God_ , Chell, this is just too much for me, do you really think I could do this right now, I mean, yes, I can skate, but did you _have_ to let go of my hands and give me a near heart-attack? Man alive, Chell, I could have fallen over in front of all these people!"

She laughed, that same crystal-clear laugh that he was so in love with. Often times, he would give anything to hear it, but his nearly-falling over was not the time.

"Can you take my hands again?" He extended one, and Chell skated backwards a bit.

"Come grab them."

Wheatley stared, not wanting to even let go of the wall, but for Chell, he wanted to prove he could do it.

Inching away, he released the wall, slowly gliding as he was bent over, keeping balance as best he could.

Reaching out, Wheatley opened and closed his hands, trying to just grab Chell's. She kept moving back, making sure that he did a little more, and when they reached a turn, took his hands and smiled.

"You did it," Chell said, tilting her head and giving him a small kiss.

Wheatley almost fell over again.


	23. Wheatley's Musings

_Prompt: Wheatley often finds himself thinking about Chell while she's at work._

Chell did that same thing, Monday through Friday. She would leave right on the clock to catch a train, then a bus to work. She would work through the day, catch a bus then train home, and come back to Wheatley and spend time with him before she had to go to bed and recharge.

So, every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Wheatley found his days a little boring. He would watch TV, read the books that Chell bought for him, or practice the controls on this strange machine Chell had bought, where it had a game with strange characters that you could race in these insane looking vehicles (even he was sure a car made of felt and stitches would _not_ be drivable).

Sometimes, he would go to the park, do the shopping if they were low on food, or to places around their city. He learned a lot about the surface by just being outside. One of his favorite things to do was take a seat somewhere and watch the world go by. It was worth the couple of dollars he spent to sit at a café and stare at people going by, seeing how they moved, and talked, and what the world was like.

But some days, on days he particularly missed Chell, he would think about her.

He would find himself playing back memories of his favorite moments, like the time he made her breakfast, or the time they attended a dance class together and the instructor yelled at them to separate and find other partners because he was "too tall for her", which Chell responded to by coming in the next week with four inch heels.

He thought about their first kiss, that he never thought could happen to him. Kisses were important to people, they were meant to be shared with someone they loved.

Even if she never said it outright, Wheatley knew that she loved him. That kiss, the first one, she had meant it.

Wheatley would reflect back on her laughter, on her smile, the way she did her hair in the morning, or the way she expertly was able to tie shoelaces and cook a meal. There was something so special and intricate in every little thing that she did in her daily life. Wheatley had lost count trying to count all the things he loved about her.

Every thought would tumble into the next, all of them leading into some other part of Chell that he loved, and today, it led to her being there. With him.

She had entered his life unexpectedly. Down there in Aperture, he didn't think that walking up this human would lead to everything that it did. Down There, she had been _The Human,_ the one who turned off Her.

And that it would lead to something like this. Living in an apartment together. The two worlds just seemed so entirely different, he wondered if one of them was a dream.

Chell was tangible, so it couldn't be. They had experienced that together and something had clicked between them. She was still there, with him. She still loved him. She would always teach him new things and was patient with him, cared about him, and never called him a- a moron.

Chell was gentle, she was so stunningly beautiful, with her brown hair and grey eyes, with her soft hands and petite stature.

Chell was strong, with a stubborn, but "can-do" attitude, and didn't know the meaning of fear.

She was… _perfect._

Wheatley leaned his head back and closed his eyes, his mouth shaping back into a small smile.

 _Man alive,_ he thought to himself, _what did I do to deserve her?_


	24. Waiting for the Bus

_Prompt: It's a cold day outside._

Chell exhaled, her shoulders steadily sliding down as she did so, and it caught Wheatley's attention, as he glanced over at her and squeezed her hand.

"You doing all right, luv?"

Chell nodded, but visibly shivered, and Wheatley gave a small smile.

She was cold.

Wheatley wondered if he could make her warmer before the bus came. It was another ten minutes before it arrived, and she would only get colder.

He couldn't convince her to leave the bus stop and go into a warm building, because then she would be afraid of missing the bus. He probably couldn't also lend her his coat, because even if he was always warm, the heat kept it in and made sure nothing froze over.

Then, an idea hit him. With a grin, he pulled his hand away and unzipped his jacket. "C'mere luv," he said, moving behind her and wrapping his arms around her, the jacket big enough for both of them as it wrapped around her and the warmth began to heat her up. She let out another cold shiver, but smiled softly as she leaned back into Wheatley and looked up at him.

"Thank you dear."

He kissed the top of her head, smiling back down at her and resisting the urge to kiss her on the lips. But she didn't seemed to mind as she reached a hand up and pulled his head down gently, kissing him briefly on the lips.

Wheatley kissed back for that brief second, and when Chell pulled away and resumed watching for the bus, Wheatley went to thinking right back on that kiss, how just every kiss he got seemed so unique and special in each way. This one was so warm and honest, and more of a "thank you" kiss than an "I love you" one.

Wheatley merely made a content sound and rested his head on Chell's, tightening his arms around her in an awkward hug.

This peaceful moment was one he would most certainly reflect on in the times to come.

…

Man _alive_ , did he love her.


	25. Chell Gets A Cold

_Prompt: Chell wakes up with a cold._

Wheatley had heard that inhuman sound before. Well, not exactly _inhuman_ , as only humans did that weird thing where they pulled their head back and closed their eyes, nose curling up as they went "ahhhhhhhhh" before bucking forward and letting out spit and mucus out of their mouth.

 _Gross._

And Chell was doing it practically every minute that morning!

She had woken up with a hacking cough and sneezed no less than twice before getting out of bed at a slower pace than usual.

Wheatley was, therefore, more concerned than disgusted, especially when Chell could barely get up and rather, collapsed back onto the bed. He asked what was wrong, gently reaching a hand out to stroke her hair.

Chell replied after she coughed again, saying that it was "just a cold".

"What does that mean?" Wheatley cocked his head to the side and didn't know what to make of the word. "You look like you're sweating buckets rather than freezing and in need of a blanket."

Chell pondered the question for a moment, trying to figure out how to describe it, and in the process coughed again, causing Wheatley to become even more concerned. Humans didn't do this regularly, at least, not that he saw in his day-to-day life. And Chell most certainly didn't do this often, either.

"It's like… the human body is fighting off a virus."

Wheatley reeled and bit his lip in horror. Viruses were _one_ of his worst fears, even if Chell told him that he couldn't be infected on the surface.

"And… how do we get it out? Is it going to hurt?" Wheatley's voice began to rise in his panic. "Will you need to go see a doctor right now? Dear- sweetheart, is it fatal?!"

Chell weakly smiled, and shook her head. "No. I just need medicine. Or I wait it out, my body will get rid of it by itself."

Wheatley stared in surprise, stunned that the human body could _do_ something like that. Then, she coughed again and asked if he could get her a glass of water. Pulling away from trying to figure out how the human body could even have the defensive systems to get rid of a virus, Wheatley kissed her forehead before getting up to grab the cup of water Chell requested, and to grab the computer.

Within a few moments, Chell was drinking a glass of water while trying to get up again, and Wheatley was on the laptop, looking up things about caring for a significant other when they were sick.

"Dear?"

She looked to him, letting him know that she was listening.

"You're calling your work to tell you that you're not coming in today, right?"

She blinked, as if the thought had not occurred to her. She coughed again, and Wheatley instantly turned away from the computer to feel her forehead.

"Luv? This doesn't feel good. You're really hot. And you haven't got coolant to make you better."

Chell merely shrugged it off, but Wheatley knew that something was wrong. Chell was still having trouble getting up. She seemed much weaker, and wasn't as quick when she did finally get out of bed.

With that, Wheatley firmly knew that he had to keep her home. When he followed her into the kitchen, and found her weakly reaching for cups.

Wheatley decided that, this time, he was going to put his foot down, and said, "No, luv, you can't do this on your own. Plain and simple."

He stepped over, hooking one arm under her legs, the other behind her back, and scooped her up.

As he carried Chell back into the living room, she began protesting, kicking her legs and squirming, but Wheatley held firmly onto her, refusing to let go until he placed her on the sofa.

"Luv," he said stubbornly, placing a finger on her lips when she tried to speak, "If you'll call work and tell them you're sick, I'll- I'll take care of you. Just tell me how. Please darling. You've done so much for me. Please just let me take care of _you._ "

Chell stared back, almost as if she was going to just simply get up and try again, but instead, she let out a resigned sigh and flopped back onto the sofa.

Wheatley practically skipped as he went to grab her phone, and she called after him.

"Pillows and a blanket, too, please."

Gathering everything together, he built up a small mound behind her and laid the blanket on top of her, while she dialed her workplace and told them about how she wasn't coming in. Wheatley thought the coughs and sneezes were reason enough, honestly.

With a huff, Chell settled back into the pillows, placing her cellphone on the sofa arm. She would have preferred to go into work that day, but Wheatley was completely willing to help her.

If she _had_ to stay home from work that day, at least Wheatley was excited about it. He was thrilled at the prospect to take care of her.

Maybe one day of him worrying about her wouldn't hurt.


	26. Valentine's Day

_Prompt: Valentine's Day!_

Chell woke up that morning without thinking about the day ahead. It was just a weekend. There wasn't anything special about it.

As she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, Chell sat up and gave a small yawn. As she did so, she felt someone's arms slip around her, squeezing ever so slightly.

"Good morning, luv."

She smiled, lifting an arm up to awkwardly hug his neck before turning to kiss his forehead. "Good morning, Wheatley."

"This morning is Valentine's Day, right?"

Suddenly, Chell was more awake. There was a reason why Wheatley bothered to move and embrace her so early in the morning (when he usually did it in the kitchen). There was a reason why she had explained this holiday to Wheatley a couple weeks ago when he asked about all those "hearts and things" going up at the store.

With a hum, Chell said, "Yes, it's today."

"I still don't get why humans need a whole day dedicated to loving people." He titled his head, leaning on her shoulder as he talked. "I mean, if you truly love somebody, you should be doing it _every_ day, not just one special day."

With a shrug from Chell, Wheatley continued. "There just doesn't seem to be much point, luv. Really. I love you just the same, doesn't matter what kind of day it is."

"You're not even going to do anything special?" Chell asked teasingly. In return, she was met with silence on Wheatley's part.

"Well- Well see that's the thing, dear," he stuttered, "I was going to do some _thing_ , but I'm not too sure about it."

Chell looked to him and raised an eyebrow.

"It's just that, well… man _alive_ this is hard to put into words…" Wheatley eased back.

"I was wondering if we could go out together. Do… _something._ But then I couldn't figure out what. Dinner's, well, obviously not going to work for us, now is it? Then I thought to myself, ooh, we could go out to the park! But then I remembered it's basically covered with snow at this point – not like the time we first got here and all of it was green…"

Chell leaned back on the bed as she listened to Wheatley ramble on about what he had considered for spending the day with her, since he clearly felt the need to still do _something_ for the "special" day, because "clearly it's important to you, luv".

It really wasn't, but she decided to just let him talk on, rather than interrupt all the ideas. Who knows, maybe one _would_ strike her fancy and they would do it anyway, even if he'd ruled it out as a good idea at all.

"… and the beach wouldn't work. All that water if it was warm. Cake baking _and_ cookie making are ruled out for obvious reasons, unless we make enough for just you to eat… so I'm fresh out of ideas that would work."

Chell thought back on each option, and then, on one suggestion (which had been "karaoke, but that's crazy and public, you wouldn't like that"), connected it to something else.

"How do you feel about making a dancing playlist?"

Wheatley looked over to her.

"Could we at least dance to it after?"

Chell laughed. "Of course. That would be the whole point."

He brightened, and was crawling out of bed faster than she had ever seen him. "That sounds wonderful! We can include both of our favorites, right?"

Later that morning, they sat down on the couch together, Wheatley pointing to practically every other song on the list to dance to, and Chell was wondering just how tired and worn out she would be by the end of the day.

The question was answered for her, and much to her delight, the dancing was not as exhausting as it was surprising. Wheatley had clearly been watching too much dancing lately, but she didn't mind – more that it was a little harder to keep up when he did things like spin her and move at a faster pace.

However, there was a moment where she caught a gleam in his eye.

Before she could even open her mouth to comment, Wheatley wrapped his arms around her hips and lifted her into the air, spinning her around as he laughed, and she couldn't help up begin to kick her legs a little at suddenly being off the ground.

Chell couldn't help but feel slightly relived when he set her down, but then he instantly launched into the next phase of his plot. Moving his arms up to her waist, he tilted her back and followed, looking at her with his best attempt at a suave look, which wasn't _exactly_ failing…

Then he stopped. He held her there for a few moments, nothing moving except for Chell's breathing as the song ended and the music faded into silence.

"Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart," Wheatley whispered, his look being replaced with a smile that Chell responded to with a tender one of her own, as Wheatley bent down further to kiss her.


	27. Stuck in an Elevator

_Prompt_ : _"We got stuck in an elevator for three hours and now I have a huge crush on you." AU!_

The lights flickered first as the elevator started going up from the first floor. Chell passed it off as nothing to worry about.

The man next to her, however, visibly shuddered at seeing it happen.

They flicked again around the third floor. Not as reassuring.

Finally, they went out and stayed out between the fifth and sixth floor. Right where they both needed to be. The elevator groaned as it came to a halt, and the man next to her leaned against the wall in terror.

 _Oh no._ Chell couldn't believe what had just happened. The elevator had stopped between floors. Suddenly, the elevator was illuminated in a white light, and she turned to see the man behind her holding the source from his phone.

"Never though that would be handy," the man breathed out, who clearly appeared to be concerned for his life. "Do you think the cable's going to snap? What if we run out of _oxygen?_ Oh my God, we're going to die here!"

Chell really wasn't in the mood for someone's ramblings at that moment. She had an interview in fifteen minutes, and this elevator wasn't going to stop her.

Maybe she could pry the doors open. Being stuck between floors didn't necessarily mean they were perfectly trapped. They could crawl out the hole. Darn. If only she had a crowbar.

And even if she did have a crowbar, there was the chance the elevator would start moving, effectively crushing either of them if they tried to get out, leading to the worst.

Sighing, she sat on the floor of the elevator, and watched as the man frantically pushed the emergency call button at a rate of five times per second. That was the next thing she was going to try herself.

When he finally stopped, they listened, waiting for anyone to reply.

Nobody responded. Chell assumed that everything in the building was down from the power outage, and that nobody could hear them.

Nothing to do but simply wait.

The man slid down next to her, heaving an even bigger sigh than the one she had done before.

He decided to start the conversation after two minutes.

"What's your name? I've never seen you around here before."

Chell did a double take. Hadn't this man been freaking out a couple minutes ago? He adjusted the flashlight so they could get a better look at each other in the dark elevator.

While she could've sworn his mouth dropped a little bit and his pupils dilated, she chalked it up to the bad lighting and replied. "Chell. You?"

"Wheatley," he responded, grinning widely. "I'm going to assume you don't work here, because if you did, well I bet I would've seen you more often, and I don't forget a face! Well, that's a lie, sometimes I forget the faces in the cubicles next to me, but you know, when you've got a _massive_ wall between you and the guy next to you, you kinda forget who you're looking at sometimes!"

As he rambled on, Chell studied his face and voice. He had brown, curling hair and striking blue eyes. When he walked into the elevator, he wasn't quite a full head taller, but he was still most certainly taller than most people she knew. She also hadn't noticed until now that he had a British accent. He must have been in America for a while, as it wasn't as distinct as it must have once been.

"What're you here for, anyway?" Oh, he was back to asking her questions. She went along, seeing that talking was helping to calm him down.

"Interview," she said plainly.

"That's probably not going to happen now." Wheatley watched her face as she seemed to be in a complete state of calm. Her grey eyes were steady and brown hair still perfectly tied back. Her dress jacket didn't even look crumpled.

"I'm sure if all the power's gone out, they're not going to bother hosting the interview in this state. There's no point in doing so. You'll have to come back another day."

Chell huffed. There was no way she was waiting another day. Suddenly, she looked past Wheatley and saw the two buttons on the elevator. She wondered if the solution could be that simple.

Wheatley began sputtering as she reached across him without concern. She smelled like flowers.

Trying the door open and door close buttons, Chell hoped it would maybe work to get them out of there, but to no avail. The elevator remained dark, the lights remained off, and the doors remained shut.

Sighing with defeat, Chell pulled back into a sitting position, Wheatley relived that she wasn't leaning across him anymore.

"There's always prying the doors open," Chell said, standing up again, but Wheatley reached out and took her hand to stop her.

"No! Don't do that!" He suddenly seemed scared for her safety. "Maybe it'll all start up again and you'll be trapped between floors! You could get squished and…" He gulped. The thought of something happening to her seemed to clearly disturb this man.

Chell debated commenting on the fact that they would go up and climb _out_ of the elevator... Was she prepared to take that risk? If the elevator came back on, could something happen?

Chell pulled her hand away and gripped the door, and paused.

Wheatley nervously bit his nails. This just, in all honesty, did not seem safe. But in that moment, Chell was struck by an idea. She instantly felt her pocket where her phone usually was… and discovered it wasn't there. Where was it? Had she _forgotten_ it? Looking around, she saw her bag on the floor of the elevator, and remembered changing bags this morning, and the phone must have not made it in the next bag…

Turning on Wheatley, who was still shining his flashlight, she pointed.

"Emergency. You have a phone. Call someone."

It took Wheatley a few moments to process the demand, but the second her eyes narrowed, he unlocked his phone and called someone he knew in the building.

"Hey, Rick, buddy, pal, friendo…! …Yes, we are _too_ friends, shut up. Anyway, listen, the power went out and—right, of course you already know that. Kinda affected most of this side of the building. But just listen—listen, okay? We're in a _bit_ of a situation, me and this lady here, the elevator seems to have stopped on us—"

Chell heard his friend's response through the phone as they yelled. _"You're WHAT?_ _Oh my GOD, WHEATLEY. STAY THERE. Did you even call emergency services yet?"_

"No!" he responded, his friend's yelling clearly raising his anxiety. "We- the button- we tried it!"

 _"CALL THEM ON YOUR CELL PHONE! Oh my God, Craig, Wheatley's in the elevator—"_

The phone beeped, and Wheatley stared at it in disbelief, as if he couldn't believe his friend had just hung up on him. For a good reason, but still, his friend had _hung up._

Chell gave a small smile and sigh of relief as Wheatley dialed emergency services. At least one of them had remembered their cell phone.

As they waited for something to happen, they began talking a little more. He told her about all of his friends up there in the offices ("Good people, they are. Y'know, they care. Little rude at first, but we all came around and got used to each other.") and Chell told him about why she was looking for a new job ("Former boss… she was a little _too_ bossy. In a bad way. And really rude to me. Bad work environment."). They bonded in that short time in the elevator, as emergency help came about twenty minutes later.

Despite the fact she was being checked out by everyone and thanked profusely by Wheatley, Chell just had one thing on her mind.

She wanted to get to her interview.

* * *

About ten minutes after they got out and were waiting in the room, a secretary came out and informed Chell that she would still be having her interview if she was up to it.

Nodding to confirm, she turned to Wheatley, and said, "You can go now, if you'd like."

But he stood his ground and shook his head. "No, I've got something to say to the people you're interviewing. I'll go with you."

Chell mentally sighed, hoping he wouldn't say anything that would ruin her chances, like the fact she couldn't escape an elevator herself and that she had forgotten her cell phone when an emergency situation was going to occur… Although, it most likely wasn't going to ruin her.

Another ten minutes passed and Chell was escorted in, Wheatley following close behind her.

As they entered, the three interviewers raised an eyebrow at seeing Wheatley enter the room as well.

"Mr. –" they started, but were unable to finish as Wheatley interjected.

"No, listen here. I know my opinion means _literally nothing_ to you folks, but…" He pointed to Chell. "Hire her."

With that final statement, he walked out, Chell turning to smile at him as he closed the door behind him.

The three interviewers looked at each other, trying to figure out what the lowly office worker had meant, and asked Chell to clarify, which she gladly did.

Wheatley, on the other hand, gave a small skip walking back to his desk.

If she got hired, maybe he would get to see her _every morning._

Wouldn't that be swell?


	28. Chell and the Massive Snowball

_Prompt: "I made an EXTRA BIG snowball to throw at my friend, but I missed and accidentally hit you in the face instead while you were walking to class, and you slipped and FELL and I ran to your help… but also slipped and fell on top of you and we cannot stop laughing…_ Wow _, your eyes are pretty." (College Setting)_

"I'm gonna peg you in the face," Rick dared, pointing right at Wheatley as he held the snowball in his other hand.

Wheatley stuck his tongue out at his friend as he prepared his own snowball as swiftly as possible before Rick could throw his own.

He was not successful as a force equivalent to a baseball hit him right in the chest and knocked him back.

"Oof!"

His other friends, Craig and Kevin, couldn't help but laugh, and Wheatley diverted his snowball intended for Rick to Craig instead, getting him right in the arm.

"Ouch!" Craig turned to Wheatley with a sneer, as he seemed to not be ready for his friend to whack him in the arm. Bending down, he yelled to Kevin, "Get as much snow as you can! We're facing Wheatley and Rick."

"No!" Rick cried. "I'd rather go solo than fight with this guy."

"That's harsh, Rick. You could say it's… _ice cold._ " Wheatley said those last words as he threw two snowballs at once, aiming for Rick.

"So that's how we're going to do this, then," Rick said, and the two prepared their weapons.

Wheatley had a massive snowball in mind. And really, he was quite proud of it. It was certainly going to be one that struck with full force and completely coated his friend with snow. He wasn't sure what Rick had in mind, but knowing him, it was probably the same thing.

His was ready first, and he took his aim.

"AHHHHHHHHH!" Throwing the snowball with all his might, Wheatley chucked it at Rick, who's eyes widened as he got out of the way.

Meaning it sailed right past him and at a young lady who was walking by.

Wheatley's hands went right to his mouth as he watched it dramatically hit her and then—!

She slipped on the ice of the pathway! Wheatley instantly broke into a run, going to her aid as his friends all watched, debating if they should help as well.

Wheatley was almost to the lady when his foot hit the pathway—which was not covered in snow, but rather, in ice.

"Oof!" "Ouch!"

They both yelled as Wheatley slipped and fell directly on top of the lady, who had just been sitting up to see if she if anything was injured or broken.

Wheatley instantly scrambled to his knees and opened his mouth to start saying a long list of apologies, but instead, he saw the lady smile and laugh, rocking back and forth as she did so.

Wheatley was stunned. He expected this person to start yelling and screaming, to start calling him out on what an idiot he was for not watching, or for throwing giant snowballs.

Instead, she was… _laughing?_

In return, Wheatley found himself nervously laughing, before breaking out in full and falling back onto the ground, not bothering with the thought of how ridiculous the whole scene must look to his friends.

After a couple minutes, they both settled down, and Wheatley began to dust off his coat, then moving to help the lady, who had stood up to begin cleaning off the entirety of the snowball. Gently brushing it out of her hair, he merely said, "I'm really sorry about that."

She shook her head. "It's fine."

 _Oh wow._ Wheatley finally got a good look at her face as she looked up at him.

"Youhavereallyprettyeyes," Wheatley blurted out.

Her grin widened at the compliment. "My name is Chell, by the way. Chell Amos."

"Wheatley-" he began, but then, his friends called to him. "Are you gonna come back to our snowball fight or leaving?"

Rick was daring him. Ughh. Right when he was having a conversation with a pretty lady.

"I'll see you around?" Chell smiled, and Wheatley nodded. "Of course! See you around!"

He jogged back to Craig and Kevin, and the former was smirking.

"Her name is Chell!" Wheatley was the happiest either of them had ever seen. He was grinning excitedly, and his eyes were shining.

That was quickly going to change, with Rick preparing to slam-dunk a massive snowball on his head behind him.

Craig let out a laugh as the snowball made contact, and Wheatley whipped around, sputtering as snow got into his mouth and all over his hair.

"Ohh, you're _so_ getting it."


	29. Child's Play

_Prompt: "Imagine Person A of your OTP [finding and giving] Person B a box of train tracks and a mechanical train… while they go to the store. Person A comes back and Person B is building an express way throughout the whole [apartment]."_

"Chell?" Wheatley nudged the door open with his back as he stepped into the apartment. "I'm back to say, Lillian next door, y'know, our neighbor, wanted to know if we could do anything with these? Dunno what she thought we were _going_ to do with them, but she went on some spiel about how her kids have left and how her daughter, Analise, and her wife aren't going to adopt so she's just had these toys in storage? So she's handing them to us because she thinks we'll use 'em sometime?"

Chell looked up to Wheatley, who was standing in the doorway holding particularly large box. He had just left to do the shopping, and suddenly was back? What was even in the box?

She stood up from her chair to peek inside the open flaps, and saw multiple skinny wooden blocks, with ruts on either side, and some small train cars. She recognized these. She often saw them at the toy store when they were out. Wheatley enjoyed watching the intricate set ups they saw whenever they had time to go in with they were out shopping or walking.

"Maybe," Chell stated simply, as she looked up to Wheatley.

"It… _is_ okay if we keep them, right, luv?" His face was hopeful, and Chell could also see the start of a pleading look, something she had taken to calling "Wheatley's puppy-dog eyes". And it was a look that she found difficult to resist.

"…I suppose. Leave them here."

He instantly put the box down and placed his hands on either side of her temples, giving her a kiss on her forehead. "You're the best, dearest! I'll be back soon."

Chell nodded, watching as he walked out the door. She, on the other hand, went back to working, but found it harder to focus. Her eyes kept darting towards the large box sitting just inside. There had to be a ton of tracks in there.

…How many curved pieces were there?

* * *

Wheatley opened the door, and yelled out, "I'm home!" as he shut the door. Taking two steps while aiming for the kitchen, he found himself nearly tripping over a bend of track and a small sign signaling a U-turn.

Putting the bags down, Wheatley gingerly stepped over the set-up, only to see more tracks winding throughout the apartment, going under the sofa, table, chairs, behind the television set… even one point where, instead of just using two parts of the hill, one went up onto the table and came back down using the other side.

Wheatley was impressed. But it kept going.

As he turned into the hallway, he saw Chell building the next section in the bedroom. This one had a train station with a couple small people standing on the platform, and the train with three passenger cars and a caboose was waiting in front. Chell was across on the other side, finding a way to connect the two parts of the curve so it would link back out into the hallway.

"Dear?" Wheatley couldn't help but laugh while he spoke, and Chell turned in alarm, blushing red from embarrassment.

"This is amazing." He crossed the room in a couple strides and gave her another kiss. "You truly are a remarkable woman."

She accepted the compliment, and after Wheatley took his coat off, he helped her build more of the track, adding crazy twists to the perfect order of the system, but Chell didn't mind.

That just simply made it more special.


	30. Pet Names

_Prompt: "Person A of your OTP lists all the pet names they have for Person B. The list never ends."_

Wheatley was quietly resting with his head on Chell's lap while she read a book. At some point, she had begun to also stroke his hair, causing him to unconsciously begin purring. He would always curse his machinery and mechanisms for doing something like that whenever he got affection of this nature, but he didn't mind it all that much.

And neither did Chell, as she continued to gently run her fingers through.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he murmured, which caused Chell to smile slightly.

"How many names do you have for me?"

Wheatley cracked one eye open to look up at Chell, who was closing her book and looking at him while she waited for him to answer.

"Well," he began, "I've got luv, obviously, that's a personal preference, but there's dear, and sweetheart, darling... that's the main list, but there are others you hardly hear.

"Then you've got sweettart. I said that only once, you know, but it still counts. Then there's honey, which I don't call you as often as I should... angel. Angel is one that I really _should_ be calling you more often. Along with dearest. That's still different from dear. And then there's the ones that I haven't had a _chance_ to call you yet but I'm still waiting to do so."

Chell raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. These she had to hear.

Wheatley gave her an embarrassed glance, like he didn't _quite_ want to tell her these yet, but she wanted to hear them…

"Pretend you're calling me all of them now," she said, and that was all Wheatley needed.

"Prepare yourself, luv, some of these are going to get a little ridiculous, but I hear them while I'm out and about or I read them or see them on TV and-"

"Wheatley."

"I'm getting to it, keep your hair on, luv! …I heard someone calling their significant other 'beloved,' which seemed so nice, and hunny bunny, which I wasn't too sure about, honestly. Then you get into the royalty ones like 'my princess' or 'my queen', and while those are completely, one hundred percent true, I don't think you would like being called those.

"Buttercup. My sunshine. Treasure, now I liked that one a lot. Joy of my life. Daisy. Cutie. Cutie _-pie._ …Sometimes I hear people when I'm out and about talking about someone being the 'better half' and honestly, that's you, sweetheart."

Wheatley looked up at Chell, who was blushing red from all of Wheatley's names and his affection. Smiling, he reached his hands up and pulled her down into a kiss.

When Chell pulled away to resume reading her book, Wheatley settled back into a comfortable position, whispering, "And you're my whole world."


	31. At A Hockey Game

_Prompt: "Imagine your OTP going to a hockey game and getting kiss cam'd[…] Person A grabs Person B's face and gives them a passionate kiss[…] Everyone in the crowd cheers as their kiss is projected on the big screen, and they even get a few whistles from people sitting nearby."_

Chell and Wheatley didn't often go out on a weeknight, but when Chell's boss wasn't able to use two hockey game tickets, they asked her if she wanted to use them instead.

Chell didn't know the rules of hockey, but decided it would be nice to go out with Wheatley anyway.

After telling Wheatley about the plans, to which he responded with great excitement, they found themselves sitting in the brightly-lit arena. Wheatley didn't like looking at the ice, but Chell assured him they weren't going to go on it at all.

"This is a foreign language to me, luv," he said, making gestures at the ice as the puck flew from one side to the other during the match.

Chell agreed with him, but it was certainly entertaining to watch, especially when someone scored and one part of the stadium erupted with cheers. The dexterity required to skate on the ice, wield a stick, move in all that gear, gain momentum, stop… She could watch as the players just unconsciously understood all the math behind it, the way they could just flick their wrist and stick to get a puck flying in the air…

Meanwhile, Wheatley jumped every time someone slammed against the wall. He never knew when it was coming, because he spent more time looking up at the massive screens _above_ the players. He found them more interesting, due to all the unique lines and ads they kept putting up. One in particular that he liked were the off-times were they had "cams". Dance cam, kiss cam… all of these were funny to watch and usually distracted people while the game was on a time-out.

Then, between two periods, something happened that neither Chell nor Wheatley expected.

The camera flicked away during a break, and Wheatley saw that he was looking-

 _At himself._ Under a _kiss cam_ logo. _With Chell._

As if on instinct, he grabbed Chell's forearm with an iron grip, getting her attention instantly as she looked up to the screen, and promptly blushed when she saw what was on it.

The crowd began to cheer, waiting for them do something, and while they delayed, Wheatley's face began to turn icy blue.

Chell instantly knew that was a problem. As his coolant worked inside his body, his cheeks would begin turning a different color than… _normal_ , which wasn't good.

Taking those few precious seconds to act, Chell turned and took his face in her hands, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

The crowd went wild. People cheered and whistled, and Chell tried to tune them out, more concerned with kissing Wheatley, who she could feel flailing as he tried to escape the public humiliation of the kiss.

"Sweetheart!" he hissed when they finally broke apart as the crowd died down, "What was _that_ all about? I mean, I'm not gonna go ahead and complain, because wow, luv, that was _amazing_ , man alive, I usually just get these little pecks and such, but-!"

Chell placed a finger on his lips as he sputtered, trying to talk about how he "really did enjoy it, luv" but that they "probably shouldn't've done that _here_ , with all those _people who just saw it_." She had done it just to hide his blue blush… right?

 _No,_ she thought to herself with a smile as he finally quieted down when the game started up again, seeming to glow a little more in the light of the kiss. _That wasn't the main reason at all._


	32. In The Morning

_Prompt: "Imagine your OTP waking up early to watch the sun rise together."_

The park was quiet and dark. Nobody else was around, save for the occasional morning jogger. Wheatley never understood how these humans woke up so early to do running constantly, headphones in their ears and bright gear on.

Chell exhaled, her breath becoming a cloud before her. Wheatley always tried to replicate it when this happened, but he could never do it. Chell said it had to do with water vapor going through "constelldation" or something when it left. Whatever that meant.

Yawning, Chell leaned against Wheatley's shoulder, while checking the time on her phone. It was coming up soon. She had only dragged Wheatley out of bed for this, and herself on a Saturday morning to watch it happen.

Wheatley had never experienced something quite like this before. Perhaps it was because he was never awake at that hour, but it didn't quite occur to him that the sun, despite the fact that it set every night, would also have to rise in the morning.

It slowly brightened the sky, the colors shifting to warm oranges and pinks, while it gradually became a painting.

There was no other way to describe it as the sun finally showed itself over the horizon. It was _art_. Chell's eyes widened, and her smile, too.

Wheatley merely watched as it began to slide further and further into view, as if it was too lazy to wake up in the morning, similar to how he felt.

The warm orange glow was almost brighter than any time they had ever watched it before. Chell felt warmer, in turn, and wrapped her arms around Wheatley's one arm, holding on tight while she sighed again, more content.

Wheatley leaned back to place an arm around her shoulders, hugging her closer.

"Good morning, luv."

"Good morning, dear."


	33. During a Thunderstorm

_Prompt: "But imagine your OTP cuddling during a THUNDERSTORM and Person B is TERRIFED and Person A has to comfort them and strokes their hair until they fall asleep[!]"_

Chell quietly held Wheatley as he curled into the smallest ball possible next to her in bed. He never liked it when thunderstorms came up outside. The first time one happened, he had been left alone in the house, completely afraid of the sounds outside. Chell came home to find him cooped up in the closet, the storm long over. Even after a talk and explanation on what happened, the events still scared him. Whenever a bolt flashed, or the roll of thunder boomed right outside their window, he would jump or shudder.

Chell quietly stroked his hair, trying to help him calm down. This was one of the few times he wasn't humming while she did so, but it did visibly begin to calm him down as the tight grip around her body relaxed.

Wheatley felt uncomfortable going into sleep mode when something like that was happening outside. When he heard a noise, he was instantly awake, like a computer waking from sleep. Then he remained up until he had reason to fall back asleep, or just waited until Chell herself woke up.

Tonight, Chell could easily see that Wheatley would have trouble getting there tonight. The thunder was right overhead and it seemed like every few seconds there was a flash outside. And each time, Wheatley went back to hugging her to the point of squeezing the air out of her lungs. She didn't bother telling him to stop, because she knew it was helping him cope.

Eventually, the rain began to die down, and along with it, Wheatley's fear. Chell kept on stroking his hair and softly humming as he finally settled into a comfortable position, arms still locked around Chell. He wasn't letting her go anywhere, lest the rain started up again.

He finally allowed himself to go into sleep mode, and Chell stopped humming, relived that the storm had died down, and along with it, Wheatley. Shifting slightly into a less constricting position, Chell fell asleep as well, not having to worry about anything else until morning…


	34. On A Mission

_Prompt: Chell wants to buy scented candles. Wheatley spends an hour in the store smelling everything._

In the mall, Chell had decided to try buying something new. When they went to a friend's apartment, Chell had commented on the pleasant cinnamon scent, to which they pointed at a candle, saying that was the cause.

It wouldn't be all bad to have the candle in the house, burning, so long as it was blown out when necessary, right? Especially if it also had a nice scent.

Wheatley walked in behind Chell, and was instantly taken by all the smells around the store.

He wasn't sure exactly what was causing it, but as they went through, it became clear what it was. Candles didn't just smell like cinnamon – they could smell like peppermint, chocolate, spring breeze, cherry blossoms…

Chell said that the smells were most likely exaggerated, especially since there wasn't _really_ a "Sunset Beach" smell, but Wheatley wanted to go on the mission all the same.

He wanted to smell every candle in the store.

As his beloved took to smelling the candles that caught her eye for the sole purpose of eventually purchasing one, Wheatley instead began from a corner of the store and worked his way around. He started with the clearance items from Christmas and Valentine's Day. The Christmas ones smelled like pine sap, similar to their tree, or gingerbread cookies, which was the first smell he knew wasn't right. Some of the candles were called "True Love" and gave a small description of their smells on the bottom, and this was "Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice".

Wheatley couldn't smell the spice and nice. But it certainly did smell like pure sugar. The pink color was also appealing.

He gradually picked favorites as he moved onto the other ones. There were ones that smelled like the countryside, like fresh laundry, like home cooking. Wheatley wondered how they got the smells contained within the candles. Did they have special tools that allowed them to capture the scent in a bottle and move it to place it within the strange, smooth substance that made up the majority of the candle?

"Chell, what is this stuff?" He held out one to her finally when they were at the same shelf, touching the candle inside.

"Wax," she replied, before smelling one labeled "Summer Garden".

Wheatley repeated the word, testing it out. It seemed fitting for the candle, somehow.

By the time he was halfway around the store, Chell was done buying what she wanted and ready to go.

"Wheatley," she said, a laugh in her voice. "Are you trying to smell _every_ candle?"

He nodded, nose stuck in a candle that was supposed to smell like a park after rain.

She chose to not say they were on a schedule, or find a way to escape his plans, because there was no rush that day. Instead, she watched as Wheatley went around, holding out candles to her that he loved the smell of, and thought she would do.

There was one in particular that he smelled, and in was instantly brought back to his first memory of the surface. It smelled like-

Like gold. Like the color of the wheat field he had first seen on the surface. He froze, gripping the glass candle in his hands as he smelled it again. There was another smell, some sort of spice, for obvious touches, but there was the predominant golden smell.

Quietly, without all the pomp and circumstance he had put on other candles, he held it out to Chell, who looked at him curiously.

Motioning for her to smell it, Wheatley couldn't put the smell of this candle into words. She just _had_ to smell it.

Leaning over, she gave one sniff, and instantly understood. It was an earthy smell, one that reminded her of-

 _There._ The wheat field where they had been first thrown out of, where she had first been free, alongside Wheatley, and the place they had run through to just get away from the shed.

It smelled like soil, like the wheat stalks and stems, like that new plethora of sights, sounds, and smells that they had first experienced getting out.

Turning the candle in Wheatley's hands, Chell read the label, which simply stated "Wheat Fields". The picture, albeit small, depicted a familiar sight of waist-high grains and blue sky.

Gently sealing the candle, Chell took it in her hands, as if she was holding a precious treasure, and went to buy one more, joining Wheatley afterwards to finish combing the entire store.


	35. Braiding Tricks

_Prompt: Wheatley taught himself how to braid hair._

"C'mere." Wheatley sat cross-legged in the center of the bed and patted the space in front of him. Chell looked at him curiously, as she was just about to pull her hair back before heading out, but couldn't find her hairbrush.

When she sat down facing Wheatley, he shook his head and spun her around, so she was sitting in front of him with her hair all down still. She couldn't help but make a face, wondering what on earth Wheatley was planning to do to her.

Then it started. He had been hiding the brush, obviously, and this was proven by the fact she felt it running through her hair and his fingers followed, gently pulling out knots and snares.

Wheatley smiled as he did so, doing his best to pull it all back before dividing it into three sections. This was the hardest part. He had seen the videos at least a hundred times at this point, but somehow, this part always amazed him. He had practiced constantly with string, but the element of actual hair made him pause.

At this point, Chell grinned, knowing exactly what he was doing now. "Go ahead. I'm sure it will look beautiful."

Wheatley looked up, then kissed the back of her head, saying, "If you say so, luv," before going forward with his plan to braid her hair.

Taking two parts, he crossed one over the other, and then, still holding the leftmost strand, took the one on the far right, and wrapped it around. His focus was completely on this job, so he wouldn't forget which side he had just done, or if he was pulling tight enough to make it hold.

When he reached the bottom, he realized that he had forgotten an important part – the elastic.

But luckily, Chell was already holding one out to him, which had been around her wrist when she was going to use it herself from before.

Rolling it off her wrist, he tied it around the bottom, snapping it into place as he leaned back and admired his handiwork.

"…I think I did an excellent job, luv, if I do say so myself."

Chell stood up and turned around as best she could to see the braid in the mirror. It did look nice, and felt secure. Wheatley had really been working on that.

"I- I know a few more, braids I mean, if you would ever be interested in me doing it more often…"

Chell came over and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Could you do it tomorrow morning, too?"

Wheatley looked up and her, and his face broke into a grin. "Of course I can, luv!"

"I'm looking forward to it."


	36. In A Corn Maze

_Prompt: Chell and Wheatley are stuck in a corn maze._

"I'm absolutely _sure_ it's this way, dearest, don't doubt my natural sense of direction."

"We already went that way, and it was a dead end."

"Are you sure, luv?"

"I am absolutely positive, Wheatley."

Chell couldn't help smiling at Wheatley dragging her all around the corn maze. He had already suggested just picking a direction and heading through the corn to get out, but Chell told him it was against the rules. Holding onto his hand so they wouldn't be separated, she knew that they would get out eventually.

He'd either stumble on the exit, or she would get them there. They wouldn't need to call staff members or ask for directions, like others occasionally had to do.

Finally, he went back, retracing their steps and finding themselves back at the entrance. Chell was sure the exit was down the middle path – it had taken them the farthest back, and had more forks than the rest of them. But deciding to see if it wasn't, she let Wheatley tug her down the leftmost way, seeing where it took them. Naturally, they came upon another dead end, and Wheatley groaned, attempting to lean into the corn stalks before slipping through them and falling back onto the dirt.

"Ack! Chell! Chell help!" Kicking out and reaching for stalks, Wheatley was desperate to escape the prison as Chell merely grabbed his hands and heaved him out, trying her best to dust him off afterwards and finally deciding it was time for her to take over getting them out of the maze.

They were going to finish it, because it should be easy.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand instead and walking back with him to the middle path, where they did eventually find their way out, Wheatley saying the entire time that he "could've gotten them there, luv, his directional navigational system must've been switched off at some point", while Chell rolled her eyes, thinking back to the time Wheatley had struggled with the map of the subway system and overshot his destination by three stops before he realized something was wrong.

"Mazes are so _hard_ , luv," he muttered as she finally saw the banner indicating the exit ahead, moving a little faster to finally get out. Silently nodding in agreement, Chell pulled them out into the open fields, where they were congratulated and offered corn that was freshly cooked.

Wheatley refused. He'd seen enough corn for today.


	37. At The Playground

_Prompt: Wheatley drags Chell to the playground._

Wheatley was waiting all day, banking on the promise Chell had made him that morning – they were going to go to the park.

That was one of his favorite pastimes, and was sad when the snow made it harder to get out and go on the structures at the playground. Chell made the hanging bars look so _easy_ , but he felt like he could conquer them today.

So when she got home, the sun was still up, and Wheatley already had his coat on, ready to leave. Chell sighed, smiling at the fact he was excited, but wanting to at least rest a little bit before going out. Wheatley's shoulders sagged a little, but he patiently waited until she was ready before they headed out to the park as the sun began to set.

There were no kids when they arrived, which made Wheatley happy. He didn't mind sharing the park with the children, but they always looked to him like they were judging him constantly.

And man alive, with the way they stared, children could _judge._

Chell enjoyed sitting on the swing set while Wheatley excitedly ran around on the playground, and she would watch him with a smile while he attempted the hanging bars or went down the slide and tried to climb up it again, with no success.

But this time, Wheatley walked right behind a swing set, and grinned. "I'll give you a push, sweetheart."

Chell held back the urge to run over and sit right away, instead calmly stepping over and sitting down politely, holding onto the chains without knowing just how hard Wheatley was going to push her.

And he gave her a massive push, watching as she flew forward, and came back. He knew this step; it was what she did when she first took him to the park. As she came back, he lightly pressed his hands to her back and gave her another push, with a small urge to laugh.

People always seemed to laugh when they were on the swing, or at least, had a smile. What was it about them, Chell thought, that made them want to smile? She herself was a victim of it, and as Wheatley got used to pushing her on the swing, stared to laugh, causing her to smile even more.

"Is this as high as you want to go, luv?" He stepped away as she swung back, seeing just how high she was going each time. She had never gotten _this_ high before. Wheatley's height probably had something do to with that.

Slowing herself down, she nodded, and Wheatley excitedly dashed to the slide, determined to make it up this time.

He had fallen down twice by the time Chell stopped herself.


	38. Reason for Alarm

_Prompt: Wheatley calls Chell by her name._

"Chell?"

Wheatley needed her to come in and help with cleaning off the table. There were papers that seemed _extremely_ important, least, they might be to Chell. To him they were just white pieces of paper with ink on them that meant nothing.

But she remained at the counter, cutting up her dinner. Wheatley wasn't sure if she was ignoring him(!) or just didn't hear him.

"Chell?" he said, a little louder this time. She had to have heard him.

Nothing! She couldn't be ignoring him, could she?

Stepping closer, he tried once more. "Chell?!"

Alarmed, he cried out, "Luv? "

And then she finally turned, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He breathed a massive sigh of relief. "I said your name three times, luv, and I got so worried you couldn't hear me or something horrible was happening and that there was something wrong with my voice box and—"

Chell scrunched her eyebrows, this time in confusion. She hadn't _heard_ him call her three times before that.

"What did you say?"

The question puzzled Wheatley, causing him to stop talking mid-sentence. What did she mean by that? "I said your name, luv."

Chell cracked a smile. Had she really _not_ responded to her name?

"What's so funny, luv?!" Wheatley was a little offended at the fact that there was something she found hilarious that he was missing out on as a joke.

"You didn't call me love, or sweetheart? You said "Chell"."

He nodded, still not understanding.

"Wheatley, I got so used to hearing you call me by pet names, I didn't even respond to my own _name."_

Suddenly, it clicked, and he laughed out loud, falling onto the doorframe of the kitchen. "Oh my goodness! Luv! …Man alive, that's hilarious!" He could hardly speak through his laughter. "You got so used to…"

Chell started laughing too, having abandoned her kitchen task long ago.

The laughter spread between them, until it died down slowly.

Finally, he remembered his task. "Oh, by the way, these papers, luv" – he stifled another laugh – "did you want me to put them someplace safe?"

"Bag." Wheatley nodded with understanding and slid them carefully into her work bag before turning on the TV.

Chell came out a few minutes later and took her place at the table, watching Wheatley with an amused smile while he watched a dancing show, constantly saying something or another about the dancer's posture or the judge's verdicts until it ended, and he joined Chell back in the kitchen to help dry dishes and laugh every once and a while, murmuring some pet name or another while kissing her temple, causing her to smile and lean into him for a few moments before going back to chores.

Sometimes, she really did _love_ him.


	39. Distracted

_Prompt: "[You're teaching me how] to tie a tie, but I can't concentrate because you're hella cute and your hands keep touching mine-"_

Wheatley constantly had trouble with his tie, having to take it off at night and put it back on in the morning. It had first been tied long ago back in Aperture, when he was built. And he'd never had reason to take it off, so it sat there forever, perfectly knotted.

But ever since Chell and him had been falling asleep in an (extremely comfortable) bed, he had taken to wearing pajamas, which made him feel way more comfortable when entering sleep mode, and he was sure made Chell feel more snug when they slept.

She said it also made sure that his shirts didn't wrinkle from sleeping in them, and therefore she wouldn't have to constantly iron them.

However, the consequences of having to tie the tie were felt quickly.

Chell tried teaching him at first. She would take one and attempt to show him through mirroring. That didn't work – his hands got tangled over themselves and knots never held.

Then she started doing it herself, and letting Wheatley put his hands on hers to feel how she moved them, swiftly and precisely, to get the tie to stay on.

This only proved to distract as he wrapped his fingers around her hands and kissed her, not only distracting her, but proving that he hadn't been paying attention the entire time.

When she wasn't able to do it in the morning, Wheatley began to just forego the tie altogether. He never got the hang of it.

Chell kept trying to teach him, but Wheatley found he could never concentrate. His adorable girlfriend was just _right_ in front of him, with that intensely focused face of hers, expertly making the strip of cloth into a secure knot.

Wheatley loved everything about her, and that face was no exception. And her hands were not soft, but rough from all the work she did, and yet were so gentle. Just part of her charm.

Eventually, if she was around, Chell began to tie it in the morning. It was easier than trying to teach him, and he never seemed motivated enough, anyway. And sometimes, Wheatley would place his hands on hers anyway.

For old time's sake.


	40. After Work

_Prompt: "One of them getting home later than the other and stretching out on top of them like a big, lazy cat while they sit on the couch in front of the TV."_

Wheatley was quietly reading when the door clicked open, precisely at the time it always did. He turned to see her walk in, and something was different.

For one thing, she looked tired. And she was a little slumped when the door closed.

He stood up to check on her, maybe even offer to just carry her to bed – but instead, she dropped her bag and coat on the floor, and fell into Wheatley, effectively burying herself into his warmth.

Wheatley understood instantly, gently leading her to the sofa as he kissed her forehead once, and let her snuggle into him as he laid underneath her, turning off the TV so that the room was silent, save for the sounds of his own machinery and the outside world.

He loved being on the receiving end of Chell's affections, and they both knew this. However, there were a few nights where Wheatley knew who deserved it more. And tonight was one of those nights while he remained silent, being as attentive as possible to each of her needs as they came, and accepting the fact that he was not going to be moving again that night.

Which he didn't mind the slightest, Wheatley thought, as he rubbed Chell's back for a few moments, feeling the tension disperse underneath his fingers. There she goes, calming down and relaxing. This was how he knew he was doing things right.

Chell turned her head slightly to kiss his chin before settling back onto his chest, quietly sighing as she felt a hand rubbing against her knuckles, gently cradling it.

The night lazily crept along, and she felt herself falling asleep. With one more kiss from Wheatley, Chell closed her eyes, softly smiling at the white noise his body was constantly producing, which indicated he was in working condition.

Knowing that Wheatley was safe. That they were _both_ safe.

That was the most important thing to her.


	41. Doing The Shopping

_Prompt: Chell and Wheatley go shopping together. Wheatley being tall helps, but Chell doesn't want the help._

Wheatley reached up easily over Chell and took the cheap bottle of juice off the highest shelf, where store workers so often stuck the cheapest items so that they wouldn't be seen by the people who were average height, like the rest of the world.

But Wheatley was far from average height. He stood at a height that could see almost above the aisles, and therefore, find the items that were cheaper, but also still good.

Chell sighed, placing it into the basket so that the weight was still distributed evenly throughout the entire basket and couldn't cause it to tip to one side.

Sometimes, she would try to reach things herself. Wheatley always seemed to have a problem when she reached up in an attempt to grab the small jars of sauce on the shelf, and find herself failing, only to begin jumping. Sometimes, she would get it. Other times, it would be out of her reach even when she jumped. Finally, Wheatley would ask, "Do you want me to lift you up, luv?" before she muttered, "No," and gave it one final leap. If she made it, Wheatley treated her to a small applause. If not, she would back away a step so he could gain access to the shelf and hand the item to her.

Chell believed that items shouldn't be placed on such high shelves, especially if someone was going to need assistance in a wheelchair or on crutches. Wheatley would agree with her, but said that it probably wouldn't easily change, not with how these people reacted when they showed him where the apples were (pointing him instead to the more expensive ones than the less expensive ones that Chell preferred anyway for the crunch).

She would then sigh, and admit that he was right. That was just how things went.

But going out shopping was worth it, especially when Wheatley was wiling to help make dinner tonight with her. He promised that he would remember to keep stirring the sauce so that it would not burn at the bottom, and make sure that he was watching his motions carefully when chopping _anything_ up.

Wheatley also completely handled the cash bit this time by himself. Chell was extremely proud of him.

It was moments like these that she actually felt… normal. The two of them were just cogs in the machine instead of a couple of spanners in the works, looking to all the world like a pair of perfectly ordinary young lovers… even though that was hardly the case.

Chell cherished those moments, because they made her forget everything else. They made her feel content… and they made her feel happy.


	42. In A Haunted House

_Prompt: "A and B are locked in [a Haunted House after it closes] and can't find a way out. B is the courageous one, while A quivers in fear."_

Chell was suspicious of the state of the haunted house. It was too empty. Where were the actors who lunged out and frightened them? What about the sound effects, people who were watching on cameras to active lights and machinery?

Would there be an announcement about closing in a haunted house?

"Wheatley. Do you see an exit?"

"Why, luv?" He had been holding her hand and staying behind Chell the entire time, out of fear of the unknown. What was inside this creepy, decrepit old place? Why did Chell drag him in here rather than let him wait on the bench _outside_?

"Because I think it's closed. And we might be stuck in here."

"Absolutely not!" Wheatley started laughing nervously. "We can't be stuck after it's closed. They would've said something at the door when they let us in. Chell, you're joking, right? Chell? Honey? Dearest? Angel? You're joking, oh God _please tell me you're joking-_ "

 _Klang._

All the lights went out around them, causing Wheatley to scream in terror while Chell felt her arm's circulation get cut off by an android who was holding it a little _too_ hard. She held back a curse, directed at the two workers who let them in after it had obviously closed. She was going to find them and personally—

"Can we get out?"

Wheatley's voice in the dark was reassuring, despite the fact he clearly wasn't trying to keep the fear out of his voice. His eyes glowed blue, the only source of light in the place. They were flicking back and forth, trying to find a way out as quickly as possible.

"Luv, _please_ get us out of here."

She sighed, pulling him along with one hand while stretching the other out in front of her. She kept hitting cobwebs and unmoving puppets, who stared back with glassy eyes. There had to be a way out if they kept going. They had to have emergency exits, or something!

Finally, she saw something give off a small glimmer when Wheatley's eyes cast over it. It was metallic and looked suspiciously like a door handle. Concealed beneath a few webs and drapes, there was a light coming from under the door. Chell lunged for it, causing Wheatley to scream about being pulled away by something in the exhibit.

As they tumbled through the door, they found themselves looking into an actor's room where two people were about exit with their bags.

"Oh my God!" The lady dropped her bag while the other person came over to the couple, checking them over.

"Were you stuck in the house?" they asked, eyes widening.

Chell nodded, but Wheatley flew into the explanation.

"We were told we could go in, by those two people at the door. Laughing the whole time, they were, probably _knew_ the haunted house was closed, but let us in for kicks. The _nerve_ of some people!"

The lady came over now too, offering Chell one of the towels to help her clean her arm of dust and grime from the walls and props of the exhibit.

Meanwhile, Wheatley was reporting everything to the other person, while they nodded along, remembering everything Wheatley told them so they could properly report it later when necessary.

After they were escorted out the back door and separated from the two actors, Wheatley vowed that he would never _ever_ go into a place like that again. He would be sitting outside, thank you very much, and this comment made Chell laugh quietly while looping an arm through Wheatley's, leaning on him as they walked out of the amusement park to catch the last bus home.


	43. An Outsider's Perspective

_Prompt: Human AU! Where Chell is a studying ballerina and Wheatley is her clumsy and awkward boyfriend. An outsider's glimpse into their life._

"Hold yourself."

The instructor stood back and observed Chell's posture and form as she, once again, did it with ease. Her ability to support herself and have impeccable balance is what made her an excellent ballerina.

But there always had to be one limit that was pushed, one little thing to fix each time. Despite the fact she was seemingly organized and wonderfully pleasant, and already silent, unlike her other students, she had to treat her with the same pressure. Simple compliments would get her nowhere.

"Lift your leg a little higher."

And especially at such a crucial time, when Chell had a few auditions coming up.

There would be nothing to distract her—

 _Taptaptap._

A knock on the door came at 7:02 PM, and her teacher signaled for her to keep stretching while she answered.

A tall man stood there, having to stoop so he would be able to duck inside. His curled brown hair was to his shoulders, and vibrant blue eyes lit up when they saw Chell. She too, smiled, her posture slightly relaxing before she remembered what she was supposed to be focusing on.

"And who are you?"

The man nervously twiddled his thumbs around, not really looking her in the eye. "My name is Wheatley. I've just come to pick Chell up. She's usually done at 7 but—"

"We still have her improvisation to do. Then the lesson will be over. We had a late start this evening. Good night." Shutting the door, she came back over to Chell, motioning for her to relax while she found a track for Chell to dance to.

"Who is he?"

The question made Chell pause for a moment, wondering how she could word the answer.

"My boyfriend," she finally stated simply.

Her teacher glanced at the window, then the clock, before picking out a longer song.

After a session of improv dancing and a cooldown, Chell left, and her teacher watched as she got into a car waiting outside with a smile.

Giving a huff, she only hoped that this boyfriend wouldn't be interrupting another lesson.

* * *

"I'll come back at 7," the voice said outside the door. The teacher paused, hand hovering over the doorknob. She wasn't going to answer it yet.

"You don't have to come apologize, you know." That was more words in a single sentence than she sometimes said during an entire session.

"I feel bad. She seemed pretty irritated last week. Slamming the door in my face and all. And I'd hate to be early again tonight and make you feel bad. Might ruin our plans."

While listening, she noticed the slight accent in his voice? British? Clearly he had spent time in the States, but the tone was unmistakable.

"It's fine. I'll see you at 7." She heard a kiss on the cheek and shuffling away while she finally opened the door.

"Early again, as usual." Her teacher nodded as Chell stepped inside. She seemed happier. Briefly, her teacher wondered if there was something going on tonight, but pushed the thought aside in favor of instructing Chell on stretches and the proper way to tie her knot for her ribbon so there were no creases to ruin the image.

The entire lesson, there were zero distractions on Chell's part as she focused on her audition work, but her teacher instead kept thinking about those plans as she changed songs or during brief break periods. It was not right of her to be so defensive and parental to Chell, but she couldn't help it. She had been with her for a long time and felt like her aunt. And watching a strange man who seemed to be her near opposite (At least, that was the brief impression she got) be in a relationship with her… it was almost strange.

Chell tapped her shoulder quietly, wondering if she was doing all right. Nodding, she went right back to working and critiquing.

When the time came, Chell packed up her bag methodically and easily, while the door was knocked on again. Opening it, she saw the man again, stooping to see inside.

"Hello there! Sorry to drop in again, but I came later so I would be sure I wasn't interrupting anything. We got plans, see, and—"

"Wheatley." Chell came over to her teacher's side, and she saw just how dynamic their height difference was. Chell was about her height, but this man towered above her at what she believed to be at least six feet. Most likely more.

And his name was Wheatley. Seemed oddly fitting.

"Sorry, luv, I'm just excited to make dinner." He took her hand when she stepped out, and waved. "Thank you for today. I'll see you next week."

Again, more words than she ever heard her say in a lesson. This man brought words out of her so easily. Her teacher gently waved back, and watched as the man briefly kissed Chell's forehead before getting in the driver's seat. She sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

Maybe he wasn't all bad.

* * *

"You cannot talk while she is performing. You'll run the risk of distracting her while she's performing. This is just for her to do in front of people." Wheatley nodded, completely understanding and knowing that he had to be as little of a distraction as possible.

Her teacher leaned back and hit play on the music, and the piano slowly filled the room as Chell began, sweeping through motions and doing what looked like impossible feats. Despite the fact she was one soloist, her dancing filled the vast space of the studio around her.

And her teacher saw that look on his face. His eyes weren't glassed over, but they were intently focused, but also seemed to be out of focus. They were… loving. His adoration for her was clear.

When she completed her dance, she faced Wheatley, and gave a graceful bow, pose held until the very end when Wheatley started clapping excitedly, showering Chell with praises. Her teacher decided to not dampen the mood in being extremely nitpicky. Instead, she watched as Chell's boyfriend complimented her and gave her a massive hug.

He was so supportive, and kind, and—

She loved him too. That small smile, the way she talked with him…

They were perfect for each other. They complimented each other, and it was clear that they were meant to be.


	44. Texts

_Prompt: Chell is going through her texts and finds the ones from Wheatley that she loves the most._

Wheatley: Hey angel! I know that you got m

Wheatley: Me. Wow this phone hard to use love. My thumbs ar

Wheatley: Not used to this. This phone is hard

•

Wheatley: This is just me asking how works going are you still going to be home early? I might also be wondering because I need to know when I can go shopping so that way I can meet you at the stop

•

Wheatley: I know you said not to text you during a meeting so I held this in until you were on your way home. I love you. There. Been wanting to say it all day.

•

Wheatley: The old lady at the grocery store said I need to get my hair cut again do you think I should maybe give it a trim I mean I doubt it will grow back but you never know

Chell: Do not cut anything.

Wheatley: Ok

•

Wheatley: Look at this cat

Wheatley: Look at this cat

Wheatley: Look at this cat!

Wheatley: Look at this cat

Chell: I'm in a meeting

Wheatley: This cat!

Wheatley: Oh, sorry love

•

Wheatley: Wanna kiss u

Chell: You have to wait.

Chell: And use full words.

Wheatley: Kiss you.

•

Wheatley: Want to know how much I love you?

Chell: Do not blow up my phone with 127 individual heart messages again, please.

Wheatley: What if I did it in one message

Chell: No.

•

Wheatley: I love you. I'm going to add a message whenever I feel the urge all day so I don't send individual texts and send it around lunchtime. I miss you. I love you. I want to cuddle you and give you lots of kisses. Do you remember when I successfully made sauce? I made the bed by the way. I love you.

Wheatley: Oh and one more time, I love you.

Wheatley: A lot.


	45. Dinner Date

_Prompt: Person B is tall and Person A is short. On their date, they go to a restaurant, and the lights hang low over the table. When Person B leans in for a kiss, they hit their head on the light. Person A laughs._

Wheatley spun the fork around in his fingers, trying to look like he had been using it the entire time. Chell was happily tucking into a meal while looking up at Wheatley, who absently stabbed his fork in every once and a while.

"Did you want to watch that movie when we got home?"

"We could, if it's not too late. I wouldn't mind that."

"Okay," Wheatley said, glancing around at the other patrons in the restaurant. For once, he was also feeling nervous about people noticing how he wasn't eating anything. That was easier to avoid in counter service restaurants where he just didn't order anything, but this was a slightly fancier place. Everyone had at least two plates on their table and were only sharing tiny portions. Nobody was sharing a plate.

When Chell looked up to see Wheatley nervously looking around and trying to observe what everyone else was doing, she took his hand and gave it a small squeeze.

"You know that nobody's going to care here, right?" Wheatley turned his head to face her, eyes widening.

"Are you sure about that luv? I just feel more exposed here. Even the waiter asked me three times if I was okay getting my own plate, since you ordered 'n' all and I had to just nod along, because what do I know about food, I can't eat it anyway, it's just more for you—"

"Are you two enjoying the meal?" The waiter dipped into their conversation, adjusting the tray on their shoulder.

"Yes," Chell replied curtly, while Wheatley quickly shoved his fork into the meal, making the motion to raise it to his lips until the waiter left their presence, and he placed it back down again with no intention of eating it.

Why had those people bothered to give him taste buds in the first place if they were bloody useless?

Resuming the conversation, Chell placed her fork down and took his other hand. "It's going to be fine. Everyone here is too absorbed in their dining partner to care about us."

Wheatley looked around again. He felt like he was seeing a mirror image of what they were doing right now. Couple holding hands across the table, or clearly touching legs under the tablecloth. One person looking at their partner with complete adoration, and the other talking or eating, not fully registering how lovingly they were—had those people just kissed?

Wheatley felt Chell's hand shift in his grip, and he turned to her, straightening as he did so.

Honestly, the soft glow of the restaurant looked very appealing on her. Especially with the fact she had left her hair down, and her shirt was a very nice sky blue.

The urge to kiss her wasn't overwhelming, but still… Wheatley began to lean forward, intent on giving her a romantic kiss—

"Ouch!" Wheatley's systems provided the appropriate response to sudden pain, and Chell laughed. He'd hit his head on the light! Who's idea was that to put them so low? Honestly, people his height would also be hitting their heads on the thing if they tried to kiss their significant other.

Chell, still trying to stifle her laughter, put a hand up to stop the swinging light. Some couples nearby returned their meals, the small spectacle over. Wheatley felt embarrassed, hearing his systems begin to overwork to compensate. Gently, he tried to tell them to relax, so that his coolant wouldn't come on and turn his face blue.

Luckily, this worked. He'd never bothered to try before, and was quite surprised when his systems willingly calmed down. It probably wouldn't work for everything, he mused, such as….

Chell kissing his cheek suddenly, as she easily avoided the light like the clever and wonderful woman she was, and he felt his systems begin to heat up again.

"I'm going to the restroom," he whispered, covering his cheeks as they began to turn cooler, but still grinning at the idea of her kiss.

What a beautiful, clever, and perfect lady she was.


	46. Locked Out

_Prompt: Wheatley and Chell are locked out of their apartment and realize the person with the master key isn't coming home until 11:00 PM._

"This isn't my fault!" Wheatley had practically torn his jacket apart. "I always take the key, you know that, luv!"

Chell sighed, wishing that she had gotten the key herself, and leaned against the wall, sliding down as Wheatley sat criss-cross next to her, digging through every single pocket in his coat. There was no trace of the key. Emergency wallet. Comb. Crumpled train tickets. A few old receipts. Plastic bag? Change. Some little fuzzy ball that Chell called "lint".

Wheatley vigorously shook the coat, but did not hear the rattling of his key ring, which had more key chains than keys.

"…I'm sorry, luv."

Chell brushed it off, about to get up to ask the landlady if she could just let them in with the master key…

Then remembered they had seen her before they left, and she'd said she was going out to a party and wouldn't be back until late, unlike their plans, which had brought them home at nine.

Two hours of waiting in the hallway. Lillian next door had her daughter and daughter-in-law over, so they couldn't bother them. Their neighbors across the way, Gabe and Arvid, were both out on trips.

So they were stuck in the hallway with nothing to do.

Chell, easily resigning to their fate, placed her head on Wheatley's lap, almost instantly falling asleep.

By the time he registered what position she'd just put them both in, he was unsure of what to do when the landlady got home. Luckily, they lived on the same floor as them, but…

Wheatley gently started stroking Chell's hair, tucking it behind her ear while musing on how nice the night had been.

Doing things like this with her made him feel like they belonged. And they would encourage those moments where he felt bursts of love for her, these spontaneous feelings that overwhelmed him to say "I love you" multiple times or kiss her.

He didn't go all out, choosing instead to just bend over and kiss her cheek.

"I'll wake you up when the landlady comes, dearest."


	47. April Fool's Day

_Prompt: How Wheatley found out about April Fool's Day, Chell will never figure it out._

Chell woke up that morning to find herself with her head at the foot of the bed, and feet propped up on the pillow.

…She hadn't spun herself around at night, had she? There was no way she could've done this without Wheatley waking up…

And when she sat up, she saw that Wheatley was not in bed, as he so often was when she woke up to her alarm. Where was he?

Hearing a noise in the kitchen, Chell sat up, pulling herself out of bed and dashing out of the bedroom, only to see the sofa flipped upside down.

…What was going on? What was today… oh.

Oh _no._

Chell rubbed her eyes, really hoping that the calendar was not lying to her, and that this was somebody else's doing, not Wheatley's.

But the text was printed clearly: _April Fool's Day._

He was grinning like a fool next to her, and Chell wondered what she would come home to when she got back from work.

* * *

She stopped outside the door, having discarded her ridiculous, visually-impairing glasses long ago. Her task team at work decided it would be hilarious to hand them out. She really didn't see the point of this holiday, and thought that the waste of plastic for sunglasses and kazoos and paper for streamers wasn't necessary.

But her hand was hovering over the doorknob. How had Wheatley found out about April Fool's Day? And if he actually did know, what was waiting for her on the other side of the door?

Deciding she had to face it head on, Chell threw the door open, to a…

Relatively normal-looking apartment. The sofa wasn't flipped over anymore, Wheatley was instead reading a book on the sofa, turning and brightening when he saw her come in, looking mildly confused.

"Hello, dearest!" He placed the bookmark between pages and closed the book, turning himself so that he could watch her.

So there was something weird. What was it? She had no idea what Wheatley was planning to bring out for April Fool's Day.

The first thing she noticed was the table. The two chairs were flipped onto it, unnecessarily. Then, she looked into the kitchen. The fridge wasn't open, but Chell noticed all the magnets had been flipped upside-down. And upon opening it…

Luckily, there was nothing there that was wrong. Closing it, she walked back out, and sighed.

"You haven't noticed the big kicker yet?"

Chell's eyes, which had been steadily closing in relief, shot open. Wheatley was looking at her, grinning once again. She quickly looked around the apartment. There wasn't anything noticeably off. She turned back to Wheatley, who was still waiting, with a book in his hands…

And she saw it.

 _All_ the books on the shelves around their apartment had been flipped around. The pages were facing outward, spines hidden in the back.

How long had that taken him?

Finally, Chell started laughing. Wheatley had done such little mundane things, like spinning her around when she slept, flipping over magnets on the fridge, and just ridiculous things that only he would do. There was nothing harmful in any of them, just little things that were… foolish.

Things that made her laugh and smile, which always made her feel better.

Wheatley joined in, and spent the rest of the night helping Chell spin the books back around. It was totally worth it.


	48. Embarrassing Situations

_Prompt: College Library AU! Wheatley is studying in the library for an exam when a young lady catches his eye in an… unexpected way._

Studying was boring as all hell. And Wheatley knew that sensation all too well. The sinking feeling that began to crush you as you realized no amount of studying would ever prepare you for that exam meant to trick you and merely test your memorization of facts rather than the application of a problem.

At least, that's what Craig complained about all the time. Even though he was really good at that memorizing bit that Wheatley was so horrible at – which was why he'd found himself in the library that day, fully intending to study his brain to the max, get lots of sleep, and hope that it all worked out for the exam.

It might work.

But he was _bored._ Books had so much tiny text, and he was trying not to study from his laptop because then he would inevitably go onto Twitter and check up on his never-ending feed.

So, his brain found another distraction. There was a single _thud!_ from left, and Wheatley turned to see what was causing it. Had a book fallen? A person? A parrot dressed in a poncho and earmuffs?

Dismissing the last one as a ridiculous notion, he instead saw a female student reaching up a tall bookshelf. She was about a shelf and a half shy of where she might've been reaching.

When she started to jump again, she had Wheatley's full attention. He watched her with intense curiosity as she leaped at the book, fingers just beginning to brush shelf but unable to hook her fingers around the book itself.

And then she backed up towards him, and looked left and right.

 _A stool?_ Wheatley began to glance around for one, but when the squeal of sneakers came from her direction, he whipped his head back around and saw her break into a dash at the shelf, jumping at the last moment in an act of parkour to grab the book.

It didn't relent. She couldn't squeeze her fingers between the tightly packed volumes and instead of giving up, she tried that same method again.  
Wheatley couldn't bear it after a third time, especially when she nearly walked a step up the vertical surface of the shelf and nearly _had_ it! He almost began to cheer for her, but refrained from doing so while she took one more running leap and her fingers pulled it out a little bit further…!

He couldn't take it anymore. Pushing his chair back with a squeak, Wheatley walked over past the young lady and easily reached up to the book.

"Is this the one you want?"

She stared at him with silent eyes, which seemed to be looking him over. He couldn't tell if he had done a good thing or a bad thing, and her piercing gaze really didn't tell him either or.

"I had it."

The mumble was quiet, but Wheatley heard it all the same. She silently took the book and sat back down at her table, one away from his own. Wheatley stood by awkwardly, expecting a glance, smile, or thank you, but none came.

…So he just went and sat back down, casting glances at her while she flicked through the book, doing a massive pile of work while he struggled to remain focused on his material due to his constant pattern of looking up every thirty seconds at the girl across the way.

The girl across the way, however, was drowning herself in her studies due to embarrassment. She had been noticed! By another person! She hadn't seen him when she looked around to find a spot; and nobody ever came this far back in the library, anyway! That was why she liked being back here.

Oh, well. At least he was quiet and… at least kind. She was so close to that book! And that… _goober_ with an innocent smile and good heart had to get it for her!

She resisted the urge to slam her head into the book before her in shame and embarrassment.

* * *

Wheatley wanted his candy bar.

And it was tantalizingly stuck right _there._ The metal spiral was still holding it in the clutches of the machine.

He was going to get it, no matter the cost. Looking left and right to make sure nobody was around, he knelt down before the machine, and proceeding to jam his hand inside, reaching up towards the chocolate sugary snack that was out of his reach. Adjusting his body with a grunt, he began to slide his elbow into the machine, and his fingers were able to brush against the wrapper but unable to grip…!

"Are you stuck there?"

"AHH!" Wheatley proceeded to attempt to pull his arm out of the machine, and found himself stopped. _Oh no._

Not wanting to look like he was currently trapped by the jaws of the vending machine, he looked up to the person with a smile.

"Not at all- HEY!" His face brightened when he saw who it was. "Parkour Lady! Yeah, ahaha, not stuck at all, no sir. Everything's perfectly fine. I'm just… getting my candy bar that hasn't been cooperating with me and the money I put into this machine. So, I've decided to try brute force, get it out myself, as it seems to have gotten stuck like myselllllllllll…" He trailed off, realizing that he had been just about to admit his arm felt like it might be slowly losing circulation. "…How's your book? You're an excellent jumper, by the way, fantastic stuff there, you could be in the Olympics…"

But she didn't respond, instead looking at the machine with that same gaze she had given him back in the library. Wheatley had been about to ask if he'd done something wrong, when _bam!_ She kicked the machine!

The bar fell triumphantly from it's prison… and past his hand into the compartment below.

Wheatley was extremely grateful, and made another attempt to pull his hand out of the machine, but still found himself stuck inside the compartment, elbow-deep.

"Here, now let's get you out." She knelt down and began to help slide his arm out, both of them saying different ways to twist it before it finally popped free, and he was able to finally open his chocolate and noticed she was walking away.

"Oi! Not this time!" He chased her down, causing her to pause and turn to see him following her. "I haven't got class for an hour, so I've got a couple questions for you. What's your name, anyway?"

"…Chell."

"I'm Wheatley!" He stuck a hand out and she took it, a tad cautiously, but he did his best to not shake her arm off or anything. In fact, her hand was really delicate, but she gave a good handshake. Her eyes were also really nice, and they were looking at – his chocolate bar!

"Oh!" Wheatley went and broke a piece off, holding it out to her.

"Want a piece of it, luv?"

She was taken aback by the sudden offer, but happily took it, munching on it while looking at Wheatley, who was now going off on a tangent about how his next class was two hours and he wanted _something_ to eat. Chell listened quietly, just taking in his voice and animated expressions he added to all his words.

 _What a goober. …He has a cute smile._


	49. Coffee Shop AU

_Prompt: "So, I work at this café, and you come in, sobbing so hard that you can barely order your… was it chocolate caramel frappe? Dude. I'm going to have to wipe that table when you're done crying on it."_

Chell never liked working at this place. The scruffy man who worked the counter with her always seemed to be drawing in a notebook, and the shift manager was the worst. The boss clearly had her as a favorite though, and there was nothing they could do about it.

But oh no. Today was a day where she was glaring daggers into the man at the table off to the side, where lonely writers sat with their laptops to woe about all the world's troubles. He wasn't that sort, though. Instead, he had his face buried into his crossed arms, crying into the table.

She was going to have to wipe it down by the time he was done crying.

Her co-worker eventually walked up to the side and called out in her typical, demanding voice:

"Wheatley!"

The sobbing man's head snapped up, and he came over to get it, Chell's co-worker practically shoving it into his chest before going to take the next order. Chell watched out of the corner of her eye as he sat back down, crying while he sipped the large chocolate caramel frappe.

The end of Chell's shift ticked closer, and the man was still at the table with about one-fourth of his frappe left. Her co-worker eyed her then the man, which implied that she was now stuck cleaning it up while her and the other worker tidied up the counter spaces.

Chell took up her cloths and water and cleaned every table around the man first, hoping he'd take the hint… but to no avail. He sat there, having stopped crying when the puddle of tears became obvious, and instead was staring forlornly at the plastic cup.

She began to clean the table itself, and still he refused to move. Chell leaned over, checking the name on his cup before talking.  
"Wheatley? I'm going to need to ask you to leave?"

He didn't respond right away, instead heaving a great sigh and pulling out his phone, flicking through images. Chell rolled her eyes and lifted his cup to clean under it, and was just about to walk away when he held it out towards her.

It was a picture of an adorable dog, looking right at the camera. He flicked to the next one and hit the screen as a video began playing. The dog was barking and wagging it's tail as someone with a slight accent (British?) spoke in the background.

"Molly! Here you go Molly!" A treat dropped in front and Chell found herself suddenly attached to this small adorable dog.

"Are they yours?"

The man burst into tears again, sobbing into his other hand, and Chell felt awful. Putting two and two together, she knew what happened.

Briskly walking away to finish cleaning all the other tables and clock out, she came back to Wheatley and lifted him up out of his seat, where he was at risk to get the table dirty again.

"Come on, let's go."

Wheatley kept on crying, while Chell managed to drag him outside towards a bench in the park across the street.

When they sat down, he started to talk.

"Molly was such a precious puppy… and she's in the vet's office right now. She is always so happy and there's just something about her that makes others light up with joy! And the vet is saying she doesn't have a chance."

Chell listened as he kept going on and on about this dog, who was six years old, the light of his life, something he came home to every day and rarely barked, had to go the same way every walk, loved lettuce and popcorn… the overwhelming amount of information she suddenly knew about this dog became too much by the time Wheatley cared to stop.

"I hope she gets well soon."

After confirming he would be able to get home, Chell left him on the bench, and sighed to herself, hoping that people like that wouldn't come into the coffee shop often. She felt horrible, yes, because he cared so much for the puppy, but… it wasn't really her business.

* * *

"What's your name?" Wheatley was back again the next day. His eyes were red from crying so much, but he looked a little better today. Chell found herself curious about the dog – if Wheatley maybe had any good news.

"Chell," she responded. "Are you getting the same thing as yesterday?"

"Oh, yes!" Wheatley's face gained a bit of color at her question. "It helps me feel better, really does. All that chocolate and caramel probably—"

"$4.50." Chell could ask later; there were people behind him.

"Of… of course." He silently paid the amount and walked away. She pulled her doodling co-worker away from his corner and got to work on drinks. When Wheatley's came up, she found him at a table closer to the counter, silently sipping while he watched Chell, who didn't notice him after she passed him the drink.

She was efficient, that was the first thing he noticed. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, and her ability to manage multiple things at once was to be admired. Wheatley wished he could do things like that – he could barely make a sandwich and talk on the phone at the same time. And here she was making three drinks at once, turning around right when a machine had stopped, grabbing things without looking to see where they were…

He was extremely impressed and got distracted watching her, and when he remembered about Molly's circumstances, would get lost for a few moments before taking a long sip of his frappe and attempted to blow bubbles through the straw.

Chell hadn't noticed his looks at all, but bratty co-worker did, pointing him out and asking if Chell wanted him out. She shook her head, thinking that it was just him watching for a moment when she wasn't too busy. When the shop stopped bustling, she came over to Wheatley's table near the counter and asked after Molly.

"She's doing… not much better. So that's why I'm here again today. The vet still says there's no improvement. But she wagged her tail at me today! It was an improvement if you ask me…"

The word faded into silence and they both paused, unable to think of what to say next.

Chell had to attend to other orders, but Wheatley remained at the table, looking again at all his pictures of Molly.

* * *

The week passed, and Chell eventually just had a chocolate caramel frappe waiting for him. He would always come in within five minutes of her finishing it, and tell her about Molly's status when there was a lull and show her more pictures. They both began to learn more about each other as well, finding out about work, schooling, social life… and grew closer.

Eventually, Wheatley came in and asked her out to dinner. It was clear that Molly was taking a heavier toll, with very little improvement. Wheatley refused to put her down, still having hope.

"I'm just…" He looked down at his chicken nuggets, trying to not cry. "I'm just giving her one more week."

Chell wasn't sure what to say at this point. She had run out of consoling words and kind musings, and it only made the dinner awkward as they both could only hope for Molly's recovery.

The next outing was Wheatley asking if she would like to come after her shift and see Molly. He hadn't been the couple days since going out to dinner, and they arrived at the vet's with Wheatley leaning on her shoulder trying not to cry.

The door opened and the secretary seemed surprised. "Oh! We were just about to call you, Molly—"

The bark came from the back, and a skitter of feet was heard as they barked again. Wheatley burst into tears of joy and ran past the secretary, Chell quickly following to see him standing next to the vet, a small adorable dog kissing his face rapidly while he said her name over and over. She allowed herself to smile and then to be kissed by the dog ("I really think she likes you, Chell") and talking about how she would need to be kept another few days, but her recovery had been miraculous.

Wheatley went hope completely overjoyed and walked Chell to her apartment, still giddy from seeing his puppy.

"I'm just… so happy! She's better and I had been fearing the worst, and I really wasn't hoping it would ever _ever_ come to that. Man alive, I just horrified about her well-being and that I'd done something bad as a pet owner."

Chell shook her head. "You could never do anything wrong. You care about Molly too much."

"…But thank _you_ for being there for me." His voice was softer, more gentle.

Chell turned her head to look at Wheatley, and she finally saw what her co-worker must have meant that day when she pointed out how he looked at her.

His eyes weren't exactly glazed over, but they were shining, and his cheeks got a little red, and—

Suddenly, she was being kissed! Her face was held and she saw him millimeters away, lips on hers and… it was over. Wheatley turned away, looking even more red than before.

"I'm so sorry, luv. I just... I…"

Chell gave a small laugh. "You could've asked me out first."

"That would've been too embarrassing."


	50. Ghost AU

_Prompt: Ghost AU! Wheatley buys a pleasant and small house to live in, but it's got something the seller didn't mention…_

"There's nothing wrong with the place!" Wheatley skipped down the stairs of his new house. It was modest and small. There wasn't much to it, clearly was going to need a bit of a touch-up. But that wasn't going to be a problem at all. Once the boxes were all unpacked and he was settled in, Wheatley knew it would feel a little bit better.

And possibly a little less empty. It was no secret that he was alone to all the supervisors and workmen. Too few boxes for there to be someone else in his life.

"Perfect, then." The agent shook hands with him one last time. "I do hope you will be pleased with the establishment." Wheatley walked out with the agent, who pried the sign out of the modest lawn and closed the gate behind themselves. "Good day, sir."

Wheatley waved good-bye as they drove off, and stepped back into his house, checking his watch.

11 AM. Plenty of time to unpack.

* * *

By 5 PM, Wheatley had put away all the kitchen necessities, set up a sofa and his entire bedroom. Deciding to take another food break for dinner, he walked downstairs and saw himself in the mirror on the way down, right beside the door.

His face paled instantly as he stood in front of the mirror, frozen.

What just moved up the stairs above him? He turned quickly, and saw nobody moving around. Giving a nervous laugh, Wheatley walked to the kitchen, finding himself distracted.

It was just a figment of his terribly active imagination. There was no doubt of it. New house. He was bound to be seeing things everywhere, no matter where he looked. That was the price to pay of living in this new house. Which he was sure the new job would help take care of. The commute would be harder, but it seemed better than mindlessly doing paperwork all day for that company. Especially when there were scientists there who were incredibly rude to him at times. And they rejected his ideas a lot.

Sighing, he flopped onto the sofa, microwave meal in hand. As he looked at the blacked-out TV screen, he saw something again.

This time he turned instead of staring at the reflection.

Nothing.

He was sure he'd seen a hand. An arm, and possibly a head. That last bit he wasn't sure about. They were rounding the corner and Wheatley couldn't see them. If they existed.

 _If ghosts existed._ Wheatley laughed aloud. That totally wasn't scaring him at all! What kind of nonsense are ghosts, anyway? There was absolutely nothing to worry about in this case.

He kept worrying as he watched TV, glancing over his shoulder. Eventually, he just decided to go to sleep and get well-rested to finish moving in the next day so that there was less to worry about over the work week.

Standing in the bathroom, he bent over to spit toothpaste into the sick, rinsing off his brush and sticking it into the temporary cup.

When he looked up again, he screamed.

There was someone in the bathroom with him. They raised a hand, going for his face.

Wheatley did the only thing he could do.

He blacked out.

* * *

The ghost looked over in shock as the man collapsed in a heap on the bathroom tile. She hadn't meant to scare him _this_ badly. Waving was usually considered friendly, but there was nothing she could do about that. People were naturally afraid of her.

They would come into this house, which she wasn't even sure why she was inhabiting, and see her. She tired to stay out of sight, and some people couldn't see her. But others, like the previous owner, could. Which made them leave.

That was just how it went.

But the ghost had no idea what else to do with the man in front of her. She couldn't simply pull him back into his room. She could touch him, sure, but her strength was limited and if he woke up it would surely complicate things.

So, she merely went and sat down on edge of the bathtub, waiting for him to wake up.

When he did, he turned around and saw her figure, flickering in and out of reality like a bad signal.

"Ahhhhh!" Wheatley screamed again. So he _hadn't_ been imagining people or things in his house. There really _was_ something there, and… All things considered, that must've been why he got the house so quickly and so cheap.

His terror had silenced him, face paling and eyes like saucers. The ghost across from him sighed, something around her crackling. Wheatley felt his hairs stand up on end.

The sheer terror on his face finally helped the ghost make a decision – to cooperate, he had to trust her. How could she show that she had no malicious intent? There had to be a way… but the only solution that presented itself was physical contact.

Hesitantly, the ghost reached out a hand. Wheatley wanted to back away in terror but the door seemed so far away, and the ghost, so close…!

And the next second, he felt a pressure on the top of his head, sending a small chill through his body. The hand felt strange, almost as if it was a phantom sensation; there, but not really.

The two sat there in silence, not sure what to make of the other, before the ghost finally made conversation.

" _Are you going to say something_?" Her voice was distant, like it was coming from the other end of a tunnel.

"…You're pretty colorful. For a ghost." Wheatley's throat finally became unstuck and he was able to answer. "Aren't you supposed to be in all white or something with hallowed eyes?"

She rolled her eyes, before glancing at her orange sweatshirt and blue jeans. White sneakers were on her feet. There wasn't much to her, all said. But the man kept staring at her, surprised at how normal the ghost looked. And he'd been so terribly afraid of her, after she steadily began to prove how gentle she was.

"What's your name?" Wheatley asked, giving a smile. "Mine's Wheatley, but I suppose you already could know from all that ruckus we made moving— Oh no, luv, was it the moving that bothered you? I sure hope not, because man alive, that would be awful. Like we disturbed you from a nap!"

The ghost was taken aback by the avalanche of words that came out of the man, never seeming to end.

Eventually he settled down, and leaned back, crossing his legs to sit more comfortably on the bathroom floor. "Your name, then."

The ghost bristled. What _was_ her name? She couldn't find herself remembering it easily, but eventually came up with an answer for Wheatley.

 _"…Chell? I think so."_

Wheatley wasn't sure what to make of her as a person. Then again, she really, well, _wasn't_ a person. She was a ghost. And a sort of pretty one. Shame, really. He wondered what had happened to her. And why she was in this house.

"Did you die here?" She shrugged. So she didn't know, then.

"Okay." Wheatley was rapidly running out of conversation topics. This wasn't anything he had prepared for when he bought this house. He'd prepared for neighbors disliking him, roaring traffic, kids in the backyards… but not for his house to be haunted. How did you prepare for that anyway? Get nice conversation pleasantries and a cheese platter?

" _Did the previous owner not tell you it was haunted?"_

"Not a word! I mean, I guess you wouldn't really advertise it when you want to get out of here, and sell it dirt cheap, I was honestly surprised… WAIT! What did you do to scare her off?!"

Chell was taken aback by the retort, falling backwards into the tub when he lurched forward to confront her.

" _Nothing!"_ She sat back up, and her fighting back caused Wheatley to scoot back towards the door.

" _AHHHHH!_ Don't hurt me luv please don't attack me!"

Chell's shoulders sagged. " _I can't_ do _anything._ _That's the whole point."_

The silence came over again, and Wheatley cautiously leaned forward.

"Are you basically saying, just to get this straight, here, if we're going to start co-existing or whatever this is, you're… a dead person. You've got no powers, no crazy things… can't even go through walls?"

She shook her head, and Wheatley seemed relived.

" _The only thing I have is that few people can see me. Not everybody can."_

Wheatley took a personal offense at the fact everything in ghost movies had been a lie. Then again, it was rather nice that they weren't true, because that meant he was safe.

"Well, glad we've got that all established then, I'm just going to… go to bed now. Do you sleep?"

Chell decided to not answer, instead simply going, " _Good night,"_ before heading down the stairs.

Wheatley shivered when she turned the corner and her figure flickered again.

 _What have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

"Is there anything I should avoid bringing around to you? Like, y'know, should I avoid cooking with garlic or something?" Since he hadn't unpacked entirely yet, he was eating microwave meals and sandwiches for every meal, and had no idea what else could trigger a ghost's wrath.

Chell laughed, and shook her head before leaning back into the kitchen chair. " _There's nothing you need to do. And garlic is for vampires._ "

Wheatley paused. If _ghosts_ existed, who's to say that things like vampires and werewolves weren't real either?

He pushed the thought away, deciding to never dwell on such a horrifying thought again.

"Is there anything I can do to help? Do you need to use the shower? Eat?"

He was met with another shake of her head, finding that perhaps, she would be an easy housemate to have. Company without all the hassle of shopping for two.

" _…Do you want to lay out some ground rules?_ "

Wheatley looked up from his sandwich, trying to think of what they could do. He couldn't be blamed for not thinking of this stuff, but he hadn't been prepped—!

"Sure, we could do that. If it makes you feel any better, I guess, since we're going to be, ah, 'co-habituating' or whatever you call it, as a living person and a dead one…"

The silence passed over again, as neither of them could really think of anything at the moment.

"…How about we just establish them as we go along?"

 _"Sounds like a plan to me."_

* * *

Wheatley had found there were actually multiple ground rules you could set with a ghost in the house. Things like schedules, TV time… everything having a typical roommate would entail. No weird moving around after he went to sleep, no scaring the cat that came into the yard every once in a while and causing the neighbors to think he was hitting it, no crazy movie marathons on a work night…

One day, Wheatley was sitting at the table eating cereal while Chell read the paper, pulling out the comics and community pages for him.

He put his spoon down suddenly, causing her to flick the paper down and look at him.

"Um. Chell. Hey. Can you see me when I… uh, gosh, how to do I word this? You know when you're hanging around, like, outside the shower in the library while you wait to say good night, and stuff—"

" _I can't look through walls anymore than I can walk through them, Wheatley."_

"Ah. Well, that's a relief, then. Good!"

The rest of breakfast was very awkward, the silence only being interrupted by the occasional crinkle of paper being laid before Wheatley.

Later that night, after being frightened by Chell slamming the door to the bathroom while he was in the shower (he took great offense to the joke, while she could not stop laughing), Wheatley asked what she did at night, if not creepily sat around the house or haunting cats.

 _"I sit around. Sometimes I walk outside, despite the fact I don't need the exercise. I went to the park last time, and I think I scared some drunks off. Other nights I quietly lay on the sofa. Oh, and I stare at your books every once and a while…"_ She trailed off there, looking at him while the gears in his head turned.

"You can… _read_ them, you know. I mean, I'm gone so much of the day, and I can only imagine cleaning like you so very, very kindly have been and watching the telly can get boring after a month or so…"

Chell smiled brightly, and followed him upstairs that night, saying, "You're the best," before turning into the library and finding what she wanted to read.

Wheatley fell asleep that night to the sound of turning pages from the next room over.

* * *

"Chell, I'm home!"

The ghost upstairs never got quite used to hearing someone call that out. She had felt so alone after she died and now there was someone constantly acknowledging her presence every time they crossed the threshold.

She liked that a lot. Going down the stairs, she saw him standing in the living room, work bag still over his shoulder and next to something covered by a blanket. It was shaped like a cube, and Chell had to assume it was a box, but what was inside?

"Ta-da!" Wheatley flicked off the blanket when she stopped and stared, showing the name of a local bookstore on the side. Chell's hands flew to her mouth and Wheatley laughed, watching her body flicker with what must've been excitement and surprise.

"I decided to stop by the bookstore, and get more books. You said you were on my last shelves and that you were looking for more. Since you can't go out yourself, and y'know, buy stuff, I thought I'd pick these up for you!"

Chell excitedly stepped over to the box, opening it to find multiple times that she had offhandedly mentioned reading once and forgetting, or ones that he enjoyed and said he wanted to buy.

Wheatley enjoyed sitting next to her on the sofa and watching her smile grow wider with each title, happily picking out which one she would read later.

Before bed, Wheatley decided to check up on Chell in his little library, seeing her sitting quietly in the chair, hunched over a book. Her form was lightly flickering, and he saw that the book was one of the new ones that he had bought her that afternoon.

He smiled, noticing that she was… really pretty. She was still wearing those same white sneakers, orange sweater, and jeans… but was so full of confidence and still didn't take being a ghost lightly, instead proudly. Wheatley was always happy to come home to her and talk to her, and especially to bring her those books – what had come over him? He walked by the store every day to work, and today he froze, staring through the window at all the shelves and racks. Something about it just caught hold inside him and the next moment, he was travelling through, recalling titles and muttering bits of conversation to see if he got all of them, plus a few more.

And now she was reading one of them. One of the things _he_ got for her. Feeling a yawn come on and not wanting to disturb her, Wheatley turned around and went to bed, carrying that happy thought with him into his dreams.

* * *

"Hey! Weirdo! Loser!"

Wheatley had dealt with the kids next door for a few months now. After a year of living there, he'd gotten used to the weird comments from neighbors. People mentioning their single friends, older people spreading rumors, and now, the kids catching on and calling him a loner. They'd taken to throwing things into his yard, and occasionally at him, now.

Oh, if only they knew. He used to just smile at them and keep going, but now, he didn't even bother doing that. He just focused on passing by the house and getting home to Chell, who would always listen if he felt like ranting.

But today was a different day. Looking down the path leading to the backyard, he saw Chell running down towards him, intently focused on her destination – the boys next door.

Wheatley realized very quickly that the boys could not see her, and that she must've heard them every day when he walked home, and that if they couldn't see her he would be yelling stop at air and then what would happen—!

Suddenly, the kids screamed. Chell was holding the ball before them, stock still, before whipping it past them into their backyard. They screamed and ran back towards the yard, and while Chell came up to join him by the front door, he heard their mother saying that it was "just the wind", despite their protests.

"Thank you luv," Wheatley said after he shut the door behind him. "You're an angel."

" _No,_ " she argued. " _I'm just a ghost."_

"Nah, I'm pretty sure you're an angel," he retorted, smiling softly at her.

* * *

Wheatley settled down on the couch as Chell leaned into him. He'd gotten used to the mild chills that came from her when she did that. After turning on the TV, they chatted about their days. More often than not, he had a story to tell about his new job, how there was something new to think about or how there was this person who showed him a trick to the workforce that day.

Chell mostly had stories about the kids who would show up in their backyard, only to have their ball whip around and be kicked over the fence or find themselves seeing things that weren't really "there" (Wheatley laughed aloud at her saying that), or something about one of the books that she had read or a show she'd seen.

The days rolled into months, and eventually into years. Chell and Wheatley lived in the same space all that time, content with each other's company. People always talked about how alone he must be, but anyone who bothered to listen to the chats that wandered through the window or laughter from the kitchen knew that he had all the company in the world.


	51. Waking Up

_Prompt: Wheatley wakes up before Chell._

Wheatley's sleep mode was disturbed by… something? He wasn't sure what woke him up this time. Usually it was Chell's gentle shaking or his own dream sequences waking him up, but this time it just… _happened._

Oh well, a quick glance at the clock told him it was about time for Chell to wake up anyway…

 _She's still asleep._

Quietly and slowly, Wheatley propped himself up on an elbow, looking at Chell's sleeping form. He had never woken up before her, but he saw her now, completely asleep in a restful position, fingers slightly curled into the sheets and hair tossed around.

Wheatley wasn't sure what he was feeling at that moment, but he was looking at her dozing figure and just felt an overwhelming punch of love and complete adoration for her.

The world was silent in the early morning and there was nothing to do but watch her for those few precious minutes before her alarm went off and the day would begin.

He wondered if she ever woke up before him and watched him when he was still asleep. Wheatley assumed that it must happen from time to time, but of course, he would never know about it. He would be asleep.

And Chell wouldn't have to know about this either. She would wake up without knowing how long he had been awake or how long he had been watching her sleep… still so pretty. He always loved it when she left her hair down. "It distracts me," she would always say. But it looked so wonderful and beautiful.

"I mean, you are already, but…" Wheatley sighed, reaching out his other hand to stroke her cheek lightly. "Man alive, you're so perfect and beautiful. I love you, Chell – so very much." Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead, and that's when she finally woke up, murmuring a bit as she stretched, opening her eyes to see Wheatley awake and pulling away from her face.

"Did you just kiss me?" she asked in a somewhat sleepy voice.

"Maybe," he admitted sheepishly.

"…Could you do it again?"


	52. Movie Night

_Prompt: Imagine your OTP cuddling to watch a movie in bed. Person B remembers Person A wanted a snack! [Craziness ensues.]_

Chell's laptop was nicely propped open before them. Wheatley was leaning into her, with her head nestled right in his shoulder. They were both warm under the blanket and totally comfortable, ready to start the movie.

But right before Chell hit play, Wheatley jumped.

"Wait! I didn't get your snack!"

Chell sighed, but before she could tell Wheatley it was fine that he forgot, he was scrambling to get out from under the covers.

"Be careful!" she cried, but it came a moment too late as Wheatley fell over, blanket wrapped around his ankle!

"Oof! Man alive, that would've _really_ done a number if I had skin and bones like you. Ouch, hang on, Chell, Chell it's caught me! Pull it off tell it to let go!"

"Wheatley, it's the blanket."

"…Oh." Folding himself so he could reach the blanket, Wheatley untied himself and scrambled to his feet, running towards the kitchen.

…What did Chell want again? She might have wanted peanut butter and crackers, but that required a plate. And he remembered that chips often required water with them because they were… sour? No, no, they were salty, yeah, that was it.

Grabbing the bags and pouring a mix of potato chips and tortilla chips into a bowl, and then grabbing the jar of salsa and a bag of cookies, Wheatley hurried back to the bedroom, where Chell was patiently waiting for him, laptop at her side.

Grinning at her while holding up the snacks, he stepped forwards –

And proceeded to trip over the edge of the blanket, snacks flying everywhere. Chell managed to lunge forward and catch the glass jar of dip, but everything else hit the floor with crunches and the chips covered the floor.

The silence passed for a few moments, until a word found it's way through Wheatley's processors.

"Sorry…"

Chell smiled, reaching her free hand forward to ruffle his hair. But then he went off on a tangent in an attempt to apologize further.

"I didn't mean to spill the chips, luv! The blanket was there, must've left it on the floor after I had it around my ankle, and then oh goodness, if you hadn't caught that jar, man alive, it might've cracked and there would be that dip all over the floor! Who knows what mess it would've been then?!"

"You're fine, Wheatley," she finally said, hand moving down to take his own. "Thank you for getting me so many snacks. I realized a little too late I didn't tell you what to get, and you made many good choices."

Wheatley brightened, visibly happy that his girlfriend had complimented his choice in snack for her. "So… you're not mad at me?"

Chell shook her head, but responded, "However, you're going to be the one who cleans all of this up."

Wheatley sighed, but stood up, saying, "Fine by me, luv."

After collecting the chips off the ground and getting her the tortilla chip bag, he settled back onto the bed next to her, and while she paused before starting the movie, Wheatley made no more outbursts, and the rest of the night was spent next to each other, laughing and talking and watching.


	53. Aperture: Wheatley's Falling

_Prompt: Back to Aperture! Wheatley isn't falling in love with the human. Nope. Totally not._

Wheatley had to keep himself hidden from the human. Well, at least, he had to stay out of her way while she tested. He didn't want to prove himself a distraction or accidentally knock her into the acid pit if she flew through the air while he stood idly by.

However, it gave him the perfect opportunities to watch her while she tested. And man alive, did she test well.

Every time she walked into a new room, her first motion was to watch her consider the entire puzzle as a whole, then break it down into pieces while testing which surfaces were able to be portaled. Her hair gently fell at the ponytail on her back, curling just the _slightest bit_ at the tips.

Then she gracefully broke into a dash, a leap, a sprint, whatever it took to get that first bit of the puzzle through. This one, in particular, needed her to reach terminal velocity, then while doing so, launch herself through the air towards the button.

Wheatley felt himself getting sick watching her constantly fall through the portals, eyes trained on the high-raised wall opposite, which would then launch her to the platform above. Her eyes were so steely and focused, never wavering.

Where in this godforsaken place did she find the courage to _do_ it? Wheatley couldn't see himself as a test subject here, and while being a core wasn't the most _ideal_ thing ever, it sure was better than taking up the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device and flying over acid pools, facing turrets, navigating through test after test after test after test…

It would be a wonderful idea if they got out of there, Wheatley mused, leaning against his management rail. He was careful to not let his foot slip off the small platform at the bottom while watching, in the fear that he would fall off. Didn't think anything would be damaged, but you never knew what could happen here.

Trying to distract himself from the height and possibility of breaking, he watched Chell again. She successfully executed a flip through the air and landed – of course – right on her feet and near the button. Hitting it with a slight delight, Wheatley couldn't help but smile too at how happy she was and how pretty she looked, and how nice she looked in that orange jumpsuit…

Wheatley suddenly found himself sliding off the pole, and in response his fingers suddenly gripped tighter onto the management rail. _No, no he couldn't be falling for her!_ That was impossible. Clearly some malfunction in his inner program, must've been spending too much time around Rick lately. Got him feeling romantic and weird and making him feel an emotional… _something_ for the human. The human who had shown him kindness and the light of day.

But! There was still nothing too special about her except the fact she was really pretty and really good at testing. They would probably just finish these tests to keep advancing, find another broken wall, sneak out past _Her_ while she was powered down, and go their separate ways.

…Wheatley gave a nervous laugh, excited at the thrill of escaping but at the same time of what he would face. Would she, this human, help him?

When she made it to the test entrance, she started waving at him, and he instantly came down, clapping for her completion.

"Two more to go, I'd wager," he said, walking through the exit door with her. She didn't show any outward signs of listening, but he knew she must have. Had her keen hearing and all that.

Nothing significant would come out of their bond. Just two escapees, that's all they were.


	54. Chell's Musings

_Prompt: Chell finds herself thinking about Wheatley._

Chell sat down for her lunch break at work. It was the same process every weekday – just a different chair in the lunchroom. She gave a small sigh as she settled down to eat, but was instantly sitting up straight again when she noticed that the zipper on her lunch box hadn't been properly closed. Afraid that someone had stolen a piece of her meal, she ripped it open to find that nothing was missing – rather, that something had been added to the pile of food inside.

A small cookie was inside, chocolate chip, and a small note in Wheatley's untidy scrawl.

 _"Hey sweetheart! I got this yesterday with the shopping. You wouldn't BELIEVE how good that bakery smelled. Probably put my sensors out of whack, it did. I thought you'd like it too, though I don't know how well the smell carries over._

 _Oh, you're coming out of the bathroom, gotta finish! Love you!"_

Chell smiled at the small note, and set the cookie aside for last, musing on Wheatley while she slowly chewed on a sandwich.

He was clumsy at times, and occasionally, his talkative nature became overwhelming. But he was always understanding and willing to listen when it was necessary. He constantly strove to be a good boyfriend for Chell, even if that meant little things like cookies and flowers or big things like cooking and helping cope with nightmares. The effort he put into each day to day was admirable.

He had done the same thing down There. If the person who painted on the walls had mentioned something about her befriending a piece of Aperture technology, she would have done anything to deface that bit of text or imagery, because there was no way she would've done something like that. Things down There were in two categories: Dead or out to make _her_ dead.

But then this man literally fell into her life, dramatically from his management rail pole, chittering away like they were high school mates at a class reunion. And somehow she found herself tuning into what he was saying, listening and occasionally even smiling.

And to take him with her? The idea was insane, but it happened anyway. They had left together – She let them out and watched them go, and when they were finally at the surface, rejoicing happened. Chell had never expected something like this, and with such a person. It had to be a fantasy, she had to still be in that sleeping state, waiting for it all to be over.

But she woke up every morning to her gently sleeping boyfriend. She woke up to watching him for a bit before moving on with her day, listening to him with the same attention as one gave the morning news. He complimented her constantly, and did little things. Little things that he always got so—so very right.

She couldn't help but sigh when thinking about him, before remembering that she had a limited time to eat and finished as quickly as possible. The cookie came back with her to eat later, and when she reached her workspace, she pinned the small note up on her board, next to his other note, a doodle, and a photo of them together.

Standing there for a few moments, she looked at this small, personal corner of the board, completely separate from all the other papers, to-do lists, and work notes. It was the one thing that only got added to – nothing was ever removed from it.

And Chell was going to keep it that way.


	55. During A Blackout

**A/N: Heeeey, apologies to STARRY, because I am the worst gift giver ever. Apolgoies to Chell and Wheatley for abandoning them in favor of other works, and then apologies to the rest of you who were waiting for more! I still do plan to complete 101 ficlets - just you wait!**

* * *

 _Prompt: Imagine your OTP experiencing a blackout at night. Person A is tasked with comforting Person B._

"CHEEEEEEEEEEELL!"

She was instantly off the sofa when the lights went out. Her eyes were not adjusting as quickly as she would've preferred, causing her to nearly trip and hit a wall on the way to where Wheatley had been about to set the alarms for the next morning.

The answer to her was obvious. The power had cut and gone out. It had never happened the entire time they were here, but it had happened at work once. It had given Chell a fright and nearly caused her to flashback to There – once.

This time, it was Wheatley's turn to be frightened.

Chell knew that the dark room wasn't going to help matters at all, so she went to the kitchen cabinet and grabbed a candle. She couldn't tell which one it was, but lit it before going into the bedroom to pull Wheatley out.

"Come on."

With a dry sniffle, Wheatley followed Chell via her hand, being guided towards the sofa. On the table, he could already smell the object. Like gold, and spices. The smell was almost intoxicating, and the light, a warmth that even his own internal systems could not provide.

Chell smiled at the candle, also taking in the smell of the earth and wheat, before turning to Wheatley.

"Know what's happening?"

Wheatley bit his lip. "Just saw all the lights on, and was about to come back in, when they were all out again! I thought when that all went out, that maybe something had happened… Just thinking, it's a power outage, isn't it? Frightening stuff, really."

Chell nodded quietly, understanding his fears. There had always been brightly lit; She had made sure that the place remained on at all hours of the day. The fluorescent lightning was something Wheatley was so used to, it made perfect sense as to why he would be so afraid of the lights suddenly going out.

"I just thought the worst was going to happen, luv. That something might happen to me, too..."

"These outages aren't so bad, you know?" Chell smiled at him, trying to think of ways to reassure him. "We finally get to use one of those candles, and… Well, didn't' you and I technically meet due to a blackout?"

Wheatley visibly brightened, despite the lower lighting.

"You're right, luv! You and I did meet due to a power outage, and that was a pretty big one, too… So… Man alive, wasn't that awful? I wasn't the best pilot either, huh? Still, that's how it was in the first place! You, me…"

Chell settled next to him while he began to talk, the smell of the candle filling the room completely.

"'Course, all this light is impressive stuff. I guess with those wires running around outside, something is bound to happen… But couldn't this happen during the daytime? Least we would've had sunlight..."

Chell shrugged in response.

"When are the lights goings to come back on?"

"No idea."

"Mm.. Can we keep the candle lit until they do?"

"Of course, Wheatley."


	56. Switching Positions

_Prompt: Spooning, but this time, Wheatley wants to be the Little Spoon._

"Can't you hug _me_?"

"Wheatley, you realize why that wouldn't work, right?" Chell craned her neck to look back at Wheatley, who was embracing her from behind on the sofa.

Shaking his head, Wheatley adjusted himself so he was more comfortable against the back of the sofa. "No! It's just you doing what I'm doing, right?"

She gave a small sigh, untangling herself from Wheatley's grip. "Here." Rolling herself over him, she began to wrap her arms around Wheatley's waist.

"Do you see why? It's not hard to wrap around you, and you also don't nestle into me like I do to you."

"…This is actually nice, luv." Wheatley sheepishly grinned and attempted to look around at Chell, but found he couldn't see her face buried behind his back.

Chell smiled slightly, but her arm had difficult tucking under Wheatley, and was beginning to already feel the complication that came when being made of flesh and blood - her arm would begin to go numb. And it also didn't help that his entire body was over a foot longer than hers – making it not the best position.

But if he enjoyed it, maybe she could tolerate it for a little while… at least until he realized how awkward it was and felt like readjusting again.

She gave him ten minutes. If it took longer, her arm would most likely get tingly and she would be forced to propose changing back.

It only took him six.


	57. Having A Nightmare

_Prompt: Wheatley helps Chell when she has a nightmare._

Heavy breathing woke Wheatley up. He could subconsciously feel Chell shifting around next to him, causing his eyes to flicker open, registering the scene before him.

Chell was sweating, for one thing. The glow of the moonlight made the droplets clear on her face, and her arms were waving about in front of her. There was even a bit of kickback when she "fired" – despite the fact there was nothing there.

She was mute again. Wheatley had forgotten what they had done before to communicate – if they even did at all. She was silent, he did all the talking by himself. Could you have even called those conversations?

"Chell, sweetheart!" He sat up, trying to figure out what he could do to wake her up without scaring her. "Come on, luv, make it through this, here, let's get you out of this nightmare."

Her arms swung away from him, and he briefly considered his options. Singing used to work when Wheatley was there already able to comfort her, but in this case, she was already trapped. So he could scratch singing off the list.

Wrapping her in a hug might make her think she was being dragged away. Covers off, perhaps? The shock factor? Kissing her? Maybe a bit forward.

Finally, he opted to take her arms, taking care to grip the right arm.

"Can you feel my hand, luv? Do you feel that?"

The waving stopped, but her breathing persisted. She was completely still, confused as to what had happened.

"I'm here, if you'd wake up you would know where you are. Nothing is going to hurt you, dear. You're out of There, wake up now, please…! The gun's not real, Chell, can't you feel that?" His hands clutched tighter. "Can you feel my grip?"

Suddenly, she reacted. She took in a deep breath, and her eyes opened, staring up at Wheatley.

They stared at each other in silence, Wheatley's grip loosening as she pushed herself up on the bed.  
"…Thank you."

Wheatley hugged her the very next second, feeling her arms wrap around him just as tightly, remembering where she was, how she got there… and who she was happily with.


	58. Flower Shop AU

_Prompt: Florist AU! Wheatley loves the girl who always comes in to buy flowers as a gift for anybody. Which is… quite often._

She came in with a warning. The bell above the door tinkled and he looked up. Finally! The first customer of the day arrived.

She was simply dressed in a brown business suit. Not someone Wheatley would expect to find in a small-town flower shop – in fact, she seemed like the type who would call in ahead of time and have the bouquet sent through their services, and even then, maybe more expensive and extravagant people.

"Greetings!" Wheatley said with a grin. The lady, however, did not return the smile or hello. She merely began to examine the flowers. Wheatley's smile faded rapidly – perhaps she already knew what she was looking for?

Watching her maneuver around the store, he wondered if she should make conversation. Mild stuff, about her day, his day, flowers… the usual small chit-chat people made in the store when they arrived.

"I'd like these," she said, pointing to a series of white flowers.

"Is that all you'd like, luv?" He came out from behind the counter to take the bucket of white cyclamens so he could start arranging them.

Shaking her head, she also pointed to the orange lilies nearby. "Just one of these in the bouquet."

Wheatley thought the request curious, but did as she asked anyway. Taking a single orange lily from the pail, he began to pull out multiple white ones while asking more questions.

"Would you like in wrapped or in a vase?"

She pointed to the paper nearby.

"Who is this for?"

"It is my boss' birthday today."

"I see," Wheatley murmured, focusing on the arrangement of the flowers instead. This lady was giving off a very professional, no nonsense impression. Clearly, she wasn't one for conversation, either. She merely watched as he put the bouquet together.

"And who am I making this out to?"

"A Miss Caroline Gladwell," she said.

"Any return name?"

"…No, thank you."

Wheatley held the finished product out to her, ringing up the order and watching her go. The bouquet looked nice in her arms as she cradled it out the door and into a simple car. Much nicer looking than his tiny used Beetle.

He wondered if she would be back.

* * *

"Hello there- Oh! You again!"

The Lady, as he'd taken to calling her when he thought about her, pointed to herself with a questioning look.

"Yeah, you! I wanted to ask you about your bouquet! Clever stuff you did there, mighty clever… you hate your boss, don't you?"

"…Doesn't everybody?" she said in a simple monotone. He laughed.

"Fair point, fair point, sweetheart. That's the past, though – what can I do for you today?"

"I'm going out on a date-" Wheatley felt his shoulders sag "-and I need a bouquet."

"I mean, you didn't come in here for chocolates or anything," he said with a slightly forced laugh. "Know what you're looking for?"

"Green," she said. "Something unique."

"…Well, luv, we carry something… unique, I guess you could say. Gladiolus, carry this one in green. Is it good for you?"

She nodded, allowing Wheatley this time to pair it with other flowers. He picked out colors that he believed went well with the green – a red balsam, and accents of orange butterfly weed. They would look dashing surrounding a green centerpiece of the gladiolus.

"Vase or- no, let me guess. Paper?"

She nodded, and he wrapped it up for her, holding out the bouquet and feeling her fingers, hardened skin but a gentle touch, brush against his.

"Enjoy the date," he said as she left, the bell over the door tinkling again.

"I'll try."

* * *

The day had been busy. Someone wanted their store to make so many bouquets and vases for a wedding! Wheatley began to load them into the van as the car drove up behind him, the person inside killing the engine and getting out. After this,

"Need any help?"

Wheatley turned back from shoving boxes of vases into the van to see the Lady standing there, head tilted the side. Her hair was down today – oh man, did that look nice on her – and she was back for something… was it another bouquet? He could manage one for her, certainly, no problem.

"No, luv, just a couple more boxes for the driver. Late night wedding wanted flowers, all fresh and a little last minute. So these are just going to hustle over there and we're closing the shop early."

"Oh, then I'll come back another time." She went to turn back to her car, but Wheatley didn't want her to leave-!

"Wait up! I didn't say we couldn't manage yours… so long as it's within reason and we have the materials."

The keys dropped back into her purse as she followed Wheatley in, watching him sigh with relief at the completion of such an order.

"Tell me what you'd like, luv."

"Hm… this one is for a co-worker who's leaving our place for a better one. Well-wishing sort of gift. I think Bells of Ireland would be nice."

"Not as the main thing, right? I mean, those green stalks would be pretty boring, if they were a centerpiece, you know—"

"And these pink camellias."

"Can I suggest white ragged-robin to complete it?"

She nodded. "And can this be in a vase, please?"

"Of course." Wheatley gave a small bow, and arranged the bouquet into a simplistic but stunning fashion – the pink was a clear centerpiece but the accents of white and green made it look ever the nicer, which made her happy to look at it.

"Can I have a card on this one?"

"Of course. Who is it to?"

"To Craig. From Chell."

Wheatley almost dropped his pen. "A-and spell that out for me? It's easy but just in case."

"C-H-E-L-L. Thank you. You have very nice handwriting… um…"

"Wheatley," he replied, spinning the vase around to pass her the finished product. "Nice to finally trade names, Miss Chell."

She smiled, lifting the purchased vase and allowing Wheatley to hold the door open for her as they left.

"So, I got a quick question," Wheatley said, rubbing the back of his neck while she carefully wedged the vase into her car. "Did that date ever work out?"

Chell tilted her head to one side, before shaking it. "Oh, no. Didn't get past the first one. He liked the flowers, thought they were a nice touch. But we didn't click at all."

Wheatley felt his heart give a mini fistbump. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. It's not like the bouquet meant anything bad. It looked quite nice."

She waved at him as she drove away, and he watched her go… hoping that she would come back a little more often.

Even if she wasn't buying flowers.

* * *

"Hello?" Chell called back into the store. A few moments later, Wheatley burst out of the back room. He rarely saw Chell on a weekend.

"Hello! Hey, luv, how are you today?"

"Good. New neighbor. And since the apartments are always so empty and bland, I thought a bouquet would be nice."

"Of course, good choices, always. Your first apartment always seems so bare… as does your second… and third…"

Chell gave a small laugh. "Here, while you reminisce, I'll bring the flowers I want over."

"No no! I got them, luv, just tell me!"

"Okay, okay, um… yellow asters, and that white American starwort."

"That's a very basic bouquet."

"I'm counting on the yellow to emphasize."

"You could accent it with a voluminous dark blue flower. It might pop out the color of the yellow a bit more, too."

"That could work."

They traded options for a little while, to the point where a small group of people began to form behind Chell's start of the line, and their conversation was forced to be cut short for the sake of a few others and their needs as customers. Wheatley eventually sent her off with the yellow asters in a sea of blue and white flowers, and that same smile and wave she seemed to give when she left.

Just as radiant as the yellow of those asters.

* * *

The bell always caught Wheatley's attention. He always hoped he would see Chell again. The chance was always there and he never wasted a moment looking to see if maybe, just maybe—!

His heart almost stopped when he saw this time, it was _actually_ her. She was smiling at him, and greeted him with a wave.

"Here for a bouquet today."

"What else would you get, luv?"

"Not much else," she said, looking back at the buckets of flowers. "I know what I want today, though."

"That's good," he said, coming out from behind the counter. "Just tell me and I'll start putting it together."

"This borage, the blue one… the white zephyr, and the white violets. And you pick your favorite vase that matches, I don't have a preference today." She smiled back at him, looking around at the other flowers while he made the arrangement. That was strange. Usually she watched him, studying the way he did things. Sometimes her eyebrows would scrunch if she didn't like something and he'd fix it right away. But today she was meandering. So maybe today he could just go with his gut and make it how he wanted. Clearly this bouquet wasn't for something… important.

Unless it was. Wheatley's mind began to race. What if it was for another boyfriend? Another coworker? Someone died? Who the heck even knew, but he found himself jealous of this other potential lover that she could maybe have and almost wanted to ask, but refrained until he finished the arrangement and called for her to come over.

"Do you like it?"

She studied it with a careful eye, but nodded. "If you like it, it looks great."

Wheatley rang her up, the question of who it was for still burning inside him. Pushing the vase towards her, he said, "Have a good day."

"Hang on, you didn't put a card on it."

Wheatley blinked, realizing that he had been so caught up in this question that he neglected to even _ask_ about the extra card.

"Actually, it doesn't matter." She took the vase in her hands, but didn't lift it up yet. "Thanks."

"I hope they like it," he said with a smile.

"Me too," she replied.

The vase slid back across the counter.

Wheatley suddenly found himself confused. She wasn't leaving yet. His gaze, which somehow found it's way to the door automatically, went back to the counter. The vase had been pushed in his direction.

"Chell, here."

The vase slid back towards him again.

"Do you know what these flowers mean?"

Wheatley stared hard at them, but he had no idea what borage, zephyr, and violets meant. To him, the artistic appeal was all he needed, and nothing more…

"Here." She spun the bouquet back to face him. "This means blunt," she said, pointing to the borage. "And the zephyr means-"

"Wait, is this a bouquet that says you… you… …Chell, do you want to go out with me?"

She smiled.

Wheatley felt his face break into a grin. Carefully dodging the vase, he pushed forward, pulling her across the counter into a hug.

"I'll take this as a yes," she said with a laugh, giving him a hug back.

* * *

Flower Meanings:

Cyclamen: Resignation / Lily (Orange): Hate

Gladiolus: Flower of the Gladiators / Balsam (Red): Touch Me Not / Butterfly Weed: Let Me Go

Camellia: Perfection or Good Luck Gift for a Male / Bells of Ireland: Luck / Ragged-Robin: Wit

Aster: Means some stuff about love, but really, in this case it just looks like a star / American Starwort: Welcome to a stranger

Borage: Blunt / Zephyr: Symbol of Love / Violets (White): Let's Take A Chance On Happiness


	59. Aperture: The Injury

_Prompt: Back to Aperture! Chell got hit by pieces of falling debris and is now bleeding. Wheatley's never seen a human bleed before._

Chell ran towards the next room, feeling the spring on the long fall boots as she kept moving towards her destination. It was confusing to go through the walls between tests, and a room was just ahead on the catwalk. On a management rail to her right, Wheatley was clinging on the pole for dear life, chittering away to distract himself.

Suddenly, the ceiling caved in. Chell barely retracted her arms in time, in order to save them from being broken, or worse.

When the dust cleared, Wheatley jumped off his rail to check how she was doing.

"Oh gosh! Luv, are you okay?"

Chell gave him a blank stare, before looking down at her arms. One large, nasty cut was forming on her bare arm, and Wheatley was staring in disbelief.

She began to tilt her head to one side, a way of asking what was wrong, but then Wheatley's face began to change. The scene before him was clicking together in his head.

"You're… you're bleeding, aren't you? That's not good! Ahhh! Don't you silly humans _run_ on that stuff or something? Keep it inside your body!"

Chell gave him a look, before tuning out his voice so that it was akin to white noise buzzing in the back of her ear.

Taking a pause to analyze the gap and the amount of momentum and jump she would need to cross, Chell tore off a part of her white tank top, revealing the blue underneath, and began to wind it tightly around her arm. Wheatley watched curiously as she did this, going silent.

When she finished, held out the arm to him, as if to say _See?_ _No more blood._

"Oh. Well that's all right now, isn't it? See here, I was beginning to think, and mind you, this might sound _hilarious_ – I was beginning to think you were almost invincible! Never got hurt, you did."

Chell smiled to herself, knowing that this was his way of showing he cared – unstoppable ramblings. However, instead of listening, she decided to keep going, backing up and successfully jumping over the gap that was now present in the catwalk. Wheatley swung onto his rail, riding after her.

Going through the door and hearing the automated voice of the Announcer give the instructions of this destroyed test room, Chell took another pause to look around and figure out the order of events that needed to happen in this testing room.

Wheatley watched as she ran forward, perfectly tipping into a floor portal so she could find herself on a high up ledge.

Wheatley thought that bleeding bit had been mighty unpleasant. Humans could just get this little cut and bam! It was like their entire inner systems started falling out!

However, she brushed it off like it was nothing. What a spectacular woman she was.

…But what if she had been two steps closer to the door when the debris fell? What then? She got hurt? And she was still a human. A very capable one, but…

…If she could get hurt, couldn't she also be _killed?_

…Wheatley didn't want to think about that.


	60. The Storyteller

_Prompt: Wheatley and Chell go to the library._

Wheatley was drawn to how colorful this section of the library was. He liked all the building blocks and the smaller shelves, despite how tall he was.

Chell decided it was best if she at least left him someplace easier to find him, rather than having him get lost in all the shelves in the library where it would be harder to find him.

"Don't worry, luv, I'll read some of the stuff here. I'll bet you there's lots of missed childhood here."

She rolled her eyes, kissing the top of his head before walking off. Wheatley looked around, pulling a couple colorful books of the shelf at random. Finding a quiet corner, he began to read, despite all the nearby adults looking at him with strange looks as they started pulling their children a little closer. He supposed that was a natural reaction. They must've seen him walk in – he was taller than most people and clearly, this would look threatening. And if a kid started crying in the library…

Well, Chell always told him to be quiet in this building. Crying would do no good.

So he kept to himself, reading book after book. He began to pick favorite authors, especially this one guy in particular. His books were very worn and clearly loved by all children alike. This guy was named Dr. Seuss.

Least, Wheatley supposed he was a guy. They could've been a female too, he wasn't one to judge.

However, he had begun to stack books without realizing, meaning he really hadn't put any of them back yet. So when a kid came over and plonked himself down next to Wheatley, he found himself surprised as to why this child would do such a thing. Wasn't there a parent watching him with an intense stare?

"Can I have one?" The kid pointed to the stack of books next to Wheatley, and it suddenly clicked.

"Of course! Here you go – so rude of me to have them all to myself, am I right? Enjoy it!" Then he returned to the book about some weird foods and stuff – green did _not_ look appetizing.

"OoooooOOOH." The kid next to him squawked out a word, causing Wheatley to recoil in alarm.

"What was that now?"

"All the places you go!" He looked triumphantly up at Wheatley, who merely returned back to his book. He could deal with this kid reading out loud. He had heard them all do it before. They mimicked their parents, they did, reading out loud in those weird and funny voices. What did that even do?

Before long, a young girl with braided hair sat down next to him, taking another book after politely asking. Then another small child sat down. Before long, he had amassed five children around him, in almost a mini fort, while the parents talked in whispers at a nearby table, clearly not focusing _too_ heavily on their kids. Wheatley gave a huff. He knew he could've focused more on his kid better than that… and that Chell would do a lot of that as well. In fact probably do a better job—

"Exkuse me?" A tug at his sleeve caught Wheatley's attention.

"What does this word say?" They held up a book and pointed to a word on the page, to which Wheatley squinted and then said it aloud.

"Straight."

"Strhate."

"Strrrrraiiiight. Come on, use those little human lungs I know you have."

"Strhate."

"Strrrrrraiiiiight."

"Stttttrhate."

"…Close enough, I suppose."

"Can you read this one?" Another kid held out a book, pointing to the word they needed.

"That's a kangaroo." He pointed to the respective animal on the page.

The kid thanked him, and Wheatley felt a small spot of pride. _I know words!_ He was able to help these children with reading! They were asking _him_ questions! It was a very thrilling prospect—

Then, in an instant, Wheatley found himself bombarded with books and children, all of them asking him to read words. Before long, he was overwhelmed, and finally, he grabbed a book out of the stack.

"Here, why don't _I_ just read on my own here?!"

The kids fell silent. The parents had not seemed to notice the commotion, causing Wheatley to heave another sigh.

"Listen… oh, never mind. Ask me whatever you need, kiddos. I'm here."

"Can you read to us?" the girl with the braids said, looking at him with hopeful eyes.

Wheatley paused, before watching all the kids excitedly chime in, asking him to read.

"Okay, okay! I'll read. Keep your hair on, everyone settle down! Gosh… okay… this one is titled ' _Oh, The Places You'll Go…_ ' fascinating stuff, really…"

* * *

Chell did her best to look around for Wheatley. He was either at a table or mulling around the elementary schooler's section, looking for other small novels.

However, only on a double take did she see her boyfriend, sitting with a few kids, who were resting on his back, on either leg, or laying down before him.

" _You'll get mixed up, of course, as you already know_." His voice was well-scripted, paced and even. He was clearly pronouncing every word for the kids before him, and almost acting out the picture book.

" _You'll get mixed up, with many strange birds as you go_."

"Ones that go caw!" A kid yelled, causing all the rest to squeal with laughter.

"Or maybe they go squawk!" Wheatley chimed in. "But if they do, be sure that when you stop… _you step with care and great tact_ …"

Chell leaned against a nearby bookshelf, mesmerized by the way he spoke. He shifted back into hilarious voices or talking with the kids once in a while, but when he returned to that paced meter… she was proud of him. He had learned to slow down his talking to the point where reading aloud to kids was something that came with ease.

" _Just never forget_ ," he said, pointing to each kid in turn, " _to be dexterous and deft. And never,_ ever _, mix up your right foot with your left_. Especially when you're putting on shoes, _man alive_ , is that difficult sometimes."

Giggles erupted as Wheatley continued, and Chell patiently waited until the book closed, as Wheatley finished the last few words.

" _Today is your day! And your day! And your day! Your mountain is waiting… so get on your way!"_ He waved his arms about, the kids laughing and a couple running to their parents, asking to check out the book that the man had been reading.

Wheatley noticed Chell then, giving a sheepish smile, but she returned it with a kind one of her own.

"…You have to read me a story now. No excuses."

"I'll do anything for you, luv."


	61. Hired to Babysit

Prompt: Chell and Wheatley are hired to babysit.

* * *

"Look, luv, I still have no idea what to do. I was doing research all afternoon, and hardly had a chance to put my shoes on before we left. Can we do this?"

Chell shrugged her shoulders as she knocked on the apartment door. Wheatley groaned in hopeless defeat before the door opened, a smiling lady greeting them.

"Oh, my goodness, you're here. Thank you so much, Chell. And Wheatley, too. I had been hoping you two would show up to watch Kelly tonight, it's the first time we're going to try going somewhere and leave her with someone who isn't her grandmother…"

"Mama!" A young girl ran to the front door, throwing her arms about her mother's leg. "Don't leave yet!" There were tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. Her mother sighed, bending down to lift her into her arms.

"Kelly, dear, be good for Chell and Wheatley. I'm sorry, she's not ready to be left alone while we go out to dinner. But if you will forgive us for leaving her in tears…"

"I'm sure we can cheer her right up!" Wheatley gave a winning smile, beaming with confidence. Chell stared at him for a moment, puzzled as to where it had suddenly come from – but the mother continued talking, drawing her attention back.

"It means a lot. We should be back in a couple hours. Maybe if you just try to entertain her with storybooks or dress-up, it will go by quickly and she will cheer right up."

A man came up behind the mother, pulling a coat over his shoulders, nodding in agreement. "Yes, that's what makes her happiest. It means a lot you can do this."

"It's perfectly all right!" Wheatley rushed to say. "We're happy to help!" Chell nodded in agreement, and the mother let out a relieved sigh as she set Kelly down. With good-byes and comments about where the peanut butter and bread were if she got hungry, the parents left Wheatley and Chell alone in the house with Kelly.

Instantly, she latched onto Chell's leg as a comfort. Chell froze at the sudden attention, slowly glancing down at her.

"I miss my mama and daddy!" She began to wail, and both Chell and Wheatley bristled with shock. They made eye contact across the room for a moment, silently asking each other what to do.

"They'll be back soon!" Wheatley said cheerfully, but Kelly shook her head, tears cresting down her cheeks.

"No no no! They aren't gonna be back! They a-always take me with them or leave me with grandmama, and I want to go too! They're not coming home!"

"They will, just in a couple hours…" Chell got out onto one knee, unable to remove Kelly from her leg. In an attempt to soothe the sobbing child, she began to pat her back. However, the awkward, jerky motion did not do much, and Chell looked to Wheatley again. Her mouth moved in a silent plea: _"Do something."_

"What was that, luv? Couldn't hear you, probably because - yikes!"

Wheatley started to move, but caught his foot on his undone shoelace. In an almost cartoonish fashion, Wheatley tumbled forward. Arms flailing, he fell right to the floor, face slamming onto the rug.

"Wheatley!" Chell moved towards him, but Kelly held fast for a moment. When she looked back, Kelly had stopped crying, staring right at Wheatley.

"Does he have ouchies?"

Chell gave Kelly a quizzical look. In response, Kelly held up her arm. There was a bright pink bandage on her wrist.

"Ouchies! Does he need help with ouchies?"

"I…" She glanced again at Wheatley, scrambling to a seated position. He was holding his nose, as if he had hurt it - but Chell knew better. He couldn't get injured. So why was he…

"I think I've got a spot of pain in my nose. Possibly my cheek. Just a bit of it."

Chell furrowed her brow, before realizing that Wheatley wasn't talking to her. He had his gaze trained on Kelly as he spoke.

"Ouchies?" she offered.

"If that means pains, then yes. I've got quite a few! You don't happen to have a thing or three for this, do you?"

"Band-Aids! We have lots! Mama always buys them in lots of colors. Can we go get them, please?"

Chell nodded, and was promptly dragged to the apartment bathroom. After locating the bandages, they brought them back out to Wheatley. He sat patiently while Kelly tore open Band-Aids, sticking them wherever he pointed. Before long, his cheeks and nose were covered. Chell even took one to stick to Wheatley's forehead, much to Kelly's amusement.

"All done!" Kelly declared. She stepped back to admire their handiwork and first aid. It wasn't long before she broke down giggling at the sight.

"Thank you, Kelly," Wheatley said. "Means a lot that you were willing to fix me right up."

"My mama always said that I need to treat ouchies right away!"

"And you did a smashing job of it! I appreciate it." Wheatley gave her a bright smile through the band-aids. "Thank you."

"Now we can play, now that you're better! Can we do some games?"

"Of course! Do you wanna play anything specific?"

Kelly hummed as she thought about it, before clapping her hands together. "Dress-up! Oh, oh, fashion show! I want you guys to comment on all my outfits!"

"You want to show off your favorite ones, then? If you're got a fairy costume, maybe you can cast a spell and make my injuries better."

Kelly's eyes shined at Wheatley's suggestion. "I do! It has wings and a wand and a tiara!"

"Go get it then, up and at 'em!" Wheatley laughed as Kelly ran off into her room, bumbling back in minutes later dressed in the full fairy costume. Chell and Wheatley gave critiques all night - the latter doing it in all sorts of voices, filled with dramatic commentary - until Kelly's parents came home to the costumes strewn about her floor and a wide smile on her face. They couldn't thank Chell and Wheatley enough for their help. Wheatley promised: if she ever wanted them to come over again, they would be more than happy to do so.


	62. Aperture: The Human Code

Prompt: Back To Aperture! An android finds that he might have done the impossible – developed feelings for a test subject!

* * *

 _What on earth is wrong with my systems?_

Wheatley was having trouble with himself, and he didn't know how to solve it. His operational systems usually functioned in the background. Nothing made too much noise or drew much attention to itself. Things only complained when something was wrong.

But what was happening was not the usual maintenance complaints. Instead of failing, it almost seemed like his systems were coming to life, better than usual. Something made them work harder, causing his coolant to course through his body soon after. It tinged his cheeks blue, made him feel a little dizzy.

And it always seemed to happen when he looked at the test subject. At Chell. He could not discern why the _test subject_ would have any impact on his systems. Clearly, a malfunction. That was the only explanation!

When Chell paused in a testing chamber to debate her options and potential paths to take, Wheatley booted up his self-diagnostic systems. They scanned his body, comparing his function rates to a base blueprint. For good measure, Wheatley stared at Chell the whole time. It provided a good distraction as the test went on.

 _She really is dynamite, isn't she?_ he mused with a smile. _Truly an inspiration, and oh! There she goes, with all the grace of a two-legged gazelle, leaping through the air!_ Wheatley watched as her hair flew out behind her, how she braced herself for impact and landed elegantly on her long fall boots.

 _Man alive, isn't she something else._ His systems whirred faster, the coolant flooding throughout at a constant, steady rate.

Only then did his software return a diagnosis.

" _High levels of CPU computing. Coolant flow and usage standard for this level of use. These elements are to simulate the human emotion of infatuation in Aperture Software."_

"What?" Wheatley was taken aback, speaking his confusion aloud. "Could you spell it out in easy terms?"

" _... The system is working harder than usual, prompting coolant flush. This occurs due to the emotional programming, in order to express love."_

"Love…?" The word fell across Wheatley's tongue as he looked at Chell once again. He knew what it meant - he wasn't not stupid, despite what Rick believed - but he would never have used that word in this context. "Is this really what you call it? Isn't it just a human thing?"

" _Aperture androids are constructed to be as human as possible,"_ his system unexpectedly said. " _Even in love."_

"Oh, man alive," Wheatley breathed as he watched Chell hit the final button, hopping over to the exit. "I'm in _love._ I'm in love!"

His giddy whispering did not go unnoticed. Wheatley saw Chell glance at him, before tilting her head towards the exit.

"Coming, Chell!" He swung onto his management rail, trailing over the pitfalls and dangers and moving into the next room as Chell walked through the exit - and right into the next test.

The thought of blossoming love occupied Wheatley's thoughts for the next few tests, distracting him from Chell's defying feats, instead filled with pure admiration for her agility, elegance, and style.


	63. Stuck At The Train Station

_Prompt: "Your OTP is stuck at the train station because they missed the one they needed, and the next one isn't for an hour, but all the shops are closed."_

* * *

"I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, luv!" Wheatley made a face at Chell as he flopped down onto the bench. "It really wasn't your fault. Come're." He held out his arm. Chell settled in next to him, smiling gently as his arm wrapped around her as he continued talking. "You and me, we both thought the train was leaving ten minutes later, so it's not your fault

"Could have checked it. Then, we would have known." Chell sighed as she looked out at the empty train station. All the food stations and gift shops were closed, nothing open in the late hour. The only signs of life were people waiting for their late-night trains, reading a book or on their phones.

"Well, luv, there's no shame in being upset about it now. Train's pulled out of the station, and we'll just wait up for the next one. I don't mind one bit."

"I don't either," she said quietly. Wheatley caught the deflated lilt in her voice, and he leaned forward, looking at her expression. It betrayed nothing at first glance, but he noted the small frown tugging at the corners of her lips, threatening to display her displeasure.

"Hey, luv, cheer up!" He squeezed her closer, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. "It's really not your fault. I really, honestly, truly don't mind waiting. But if you're going to be pouty and apologizing on me like this, then I'll apologize for the fact you can't go home yet and sleep. You're looking mighty tired."

She nodded. Wheatley let out a soft laugh, kissing her again.

"Then, why don't you get some shut-eye? The train's at 11:50, right? Just under an hour from now. I won't sleep, so don't you worry about me."

Chell nodded again, tucking her legs up onto the bench. She got comfortable in Wheatley's embrace, leaning against his shoulder. "Thanks."

"No problem, luv. Sleep well."


End file.
